


Love You Just A Little Too Much

by TheyCallMeCat



Series: The Playmate Series [1]
Category: Dark Knight (2008), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ever wondered why Harley's full name is Harleen Francis Quinzel?, HOT DAMN CAMERON MONAGHAN, Harley Quinn is a feisty little bitch, Harley had fucked up childhood, Harley is badass, Harley is slightly based off Junko Enoshima, Harley was already crazy before she met Jerome, I gave no spoilers, I told you nothing, I'm Going to Hell, Jerome and Harley are violent people and their relationship is no different, Jerome is a little yandere, Jerome likes that, Jerome loves her but doesn't show it, Jerome turns into Heath Ledger's Joker, Jerome/OC - Freeform, Oh yeah MAJOR trigger warnings bro, Sasha Pieterse is Harley Quinn, THE ENDING THO, When Jerome comes back the Harley Quinn story might be similar, YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!, comment if you want me to tell you the video, inspired by pretty little liars and my mind machine, no smut!, not much fluff, runs before fangirls butcher me, so is Harley, the Joker ain't the only one with scars, the feels are going to kill you, there may be rape references but no scenes don't worry, this also has scenes from that criminal minds episode with little Jerome killing people, this is how the Joker got his scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:51:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyCallMeCat/pseuds/TheyCallMeCat
Summary: Jerome Valeska has been resurrected and is running around Gotham trying to survive. But on that fateful night at Arkham, Fish Mooney and her bus of monsters weren't the only inmates to escape. When he has a fateful encounter with an important figure from his past, Jerome remembers everything, starting from his childhood obsession with the urban legend of Harleen Quinzel to the real reason why he listened to Theo Galavan. This is a tale of two crazy kids in love, and the true story of The Joker and Harley Quinn.





	1. Prologue

After he woke up in the bus wreck Jerome Valeska didn't remember much. He didn't remember much at all.

His mind was full of flashes of knives, men in suits with fly's open, metal bars, baseball bats, blind psychics, clowns and a black haired woman who reeked of alcohol that would give punches that left bruises for weeks.

And a girl.

A girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that wore a black and white striped dress. But it wasn't the fact that she was unbelievably pretty that stood out to him. It was that in all the memories he had...

She was the only one that smiled at him.

But that didn't matter right now.

It was cold and dark, and that was never a good thing in Gotham.

Yes he remembered who he was. He remembered what he was like, and in that sense, he hadn't changed one bit. He also knew although some of the townspeople loved him, most of the general population would panic and call the police on him. And even though he adored panic and the kill that would most likely follow that phone call, he knew he might not be able to escape the cops in time and he didn't want to be caught just yet.

He still had some work to do.

So now he was running through an alley trying to find somewhere to sleep. There was a girl who he usually followed and he would steal the spots she rested in after she used them. But this time she was no where in sight. As he reached the exit he stumbled upon a large spread of grass. Probably an abandoned property, he thought.

But as he ventured closer he noticed a lone figure standing out there in the yard, back turned. Even in the darkness he could see the red hooded trench coat that floated around a feminine frame. He knew she couldn't see him, he knew he should get away before she noticed his presence. But for some reason he was strangely fascinated, and he stood fixtatedly watching her.

He couldn't turn away.

At that moment she seemed to have sensed he was there. Her back straightened and her hands rose to slowly pull down the hood, revealing a head of blonde locks.

Then she turned around, hair flying in the wind, and he saw her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips tinged rose pink and her skin was fresh and dewy. Her eyes were a familiar blue that seemed to hold all the galaxies above. Her mouth curled up in a smile, one that belonged to angels.

That smile.

He knew that smile.

The corners of her lips quavered and her eyebrows rose.

"Did you miss me?"

Jerome's eyes widened.

He knew this girl.

He remembered everything now.

Jerome stared at the girl who was gazing at him with an expectant, hopeful expression.

His face broke into a grin.

" How could I forget you... my little Harley Quinn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Well helloooo everyone! I am new here and if you have managed to slog through my awful writing I thank you. I know the ending is soughta kinda maybe a cliff hanger but you know. The first act will consist of flashbacks and the second act shall consist on the here and now. And did anyone get the Selina Kyle reference? I bet she won't be happy that Gotham's resident psychopath is stealing her sleeping spots. But she has a connection to Harley... You'll find out soon enough. Please leave kudo's and comments if you want me to continue the story and also, if I get 100 kudos I will write this story from Harley Quinn's point of view. Thank you for reading!


	2. Wish I May Wish I Might

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real reason why Jerome talked to Barbara Kean that day in Arkham

Conversations of persuasion were boring. At least with people like Barbara Kean. Ohh she was bad . But too stuck up for a guy like him. But his face betrayed none of these thoughts as he bounded up to Richard Sionis with the energy of a 6 year old in a candy store.  
The bespectacled man jumped in fright when the red haired boy slapped his hands on his shoulders. He turned his head to see the demon looming over him with that infernal smile, and then saw him leap into the chair with a flourish.  
"The Lord looked at his work and it was good." He hissed.  
Richard rolled his eyes.  
"What do you want Jerome?" He said in, at least Jerome's opinion, a nasal tone.  
The gangly teen leaned over the table, his once joyful expression twisted into a scowl.  
"I want you to give me what you promised."  
Richard looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow, "Is it done?"  
Jerome spread out his arms, the smirk returning to it's place like it never left.  
"Of course! She's all yours! And all she wants in return is..." He gave a wink, like they were schoolgirls talking about their crushes. "A phoooone caall."  
He bounced his eyebrows devilishly, "Women huh? So easy to get."  
Richard shook his head, " Not the girl you want. She's tougher than a box of nails."  
Jerome laughed, "I always did like a challenge." The old man's demeanor changed, and his voice lowered to a hushed whisper, as if any other of the loons in here could comprehend what they were talking about. They were probably having a good ol' chat with all the voices in their heads. "Do you understand what I'm putting at risk here? This... thing you want to see is dangerous, probably the most dangerous person in here. The strings I've had to pull to let you see her while she's in solitary..." Richard started to prattle on about something that Jerome didn't care about, like the billionaire's "fragile reputation".  
He'd wanted this since he first came to Gotham with Haly's circus as a child. The other kids talked about her in hushed whispers and parents dismissed it as a nonsensical fairy tale. The stories said that a girl had murdered her very own twin sister. The GCPD claimed that although a girl had been stabbed they had yet to find the killer. That didn't stop the gossip obsessed neighbors speculating though, and who better to blame than the only witness to the attack?  
The next time October rolled around and circus set up camp in Gotham, they were saying that the same girl's grandmother had fallen off a roof, and they thought she was pushed. But according to the police, there was no traces of DNA on the body and the girl claimed she hadn't been on the roof at that time.  
Jerome had been fascinated. Even though he knew that most of the tales were made up by bored housewives, he also knew that two deaths like that had to have some sought of foul play. He would hide behind hay bales, eavesdropping on conversations, clinging on to every word. He wanted to meet this girl. Was she also 8 years old? Would she be pretty? He imagined she would be. She'd be the very picture of innocence.  
For the next few year he heard nothing new, but he never forgot about her. After all, she hadn't been the only one up to a little mischief.  
It was when he turned 14 when he heard about her again. He had found a newspaper left on the table in his mother's trailer when he saw the elusive girl's name in bold on the front.  
It did not have a photo or description but at the moment Jerome was too shocked to care.  
...The GCPD have apprehended the 13 year old sociopath and serial killer that has plagued Gotham for 7 years now. Her parents, boyfriend and 3 photographers outside were brutally murdered. They found her covered in the victims blood at the crime scene laughing manically. Police also found evidence of mutilated animals buried all around the yard, some having been there for several years. She has also been found guilty of the murder of her twin sister and grandmother, and the attempted murder of her classmate, Penelope Martinez. She has a life sentence at Arkham Asylum starting today.  
Allegedly her parents had been bribing the Commissioner Jacobs to keep him from pressing charges, for which he is now handing over the title to Commissioner Gillian Loeb, the ceremony will be held today at...  
/> By now the newspaper was lying by Jerome's sneakers while he gazed into space, trying to process this information. After a few moments he headed into his room. He knelt on the creaky floorboards, ignoring the splinters piercing his skin. He reached under the bed and pulled out a notebook.  
It was bound by leather and the spine and cover were bare except for the words Property Of Jerome Valeska crudely engraved in the black material. The yellowed pages were filled with childish scrawl, newspaper clippings and drawings of a blonde girl with blue eyes which had slowly devolved over the years as he grew older.  
He gently caressed the withering pages that documented his obsession of the girl with the strange name. He had his own personal nickname for her, one he that danced around his head and brought a smile to his face.  
His fingers grasped between the sheets, scrabbling for a certain object. When he found it he put the pencil to paper and began to write.  
Today was the day they found out that she was behind the killings. They day she was sent to Arkham. She murdered her parents (finally), her boyfriend (jumps around in glee), and 3 paparazzi (never liked them anyway).  
This was no slip up though. She seems to be the sought of person who thinks things through carefully. But then again some of her actions (Like the Nanna Skydive Incident) seem to be purely impulsive. But no, this... revelation of her true nature seems perfectly calculated. It's as if the animals were the rehearsal, the first few killings the opening acts and now the main star is set to preform.  
I wonder if she knows that someone loves her...  
Jerome stopped, surprised at he words he'd just written. He glanced at he pencil accusingly as if it had somehow knew the answer to what had possessed him to say such a thing. Then he threw his head up to the ceiling, sighing. He knew it wasn't the pencil's fault. But something such as him didn't feel emotions such as love. There had to be some other word to describe what he was experiencing...  
Obsession. Yes he could see that, it was understandable. She was the most interesting figure to ever appear in his life, considering the bunch of mundane fools he was surrounded with, and the drunken idiot he had for a mother. And anyway, he hadn't even met the girl.  
But in the present Jerome snapped to attention. That was about to change. Richard noticed the boy's change in expression and finally ceased his chatter.  
Jerome held out his hand.  
"Keys."  
When Richard refused to comply, his voice dropped to a menacing growl you wouldn't think a boy his age could reach.  
"Now."  
Next thing he knew he was feeling cool metal touching his skin which he gripped with a vengeance.  
Richard watched as the ginger waltzed up and away toward the gate. The man bit his lip but he couldn't stop himself from blurting out his question.  
"Why her Jerome? You could have anyone in here and you pick her. Why? What makes her so special?"  
Jerome paused for a moment, but then span around with a wink.  
"Oh Richie I'm sorry. I know you're jealous but you're not really my type."  
And with that he left the rec room, leaving behind a furious billionaire.  
***  
Jerome skipped through the halls, whistling loudly. But his footsteps became more hushed as he approached the Solitary door, with a reverence usually reserved for a church.  
Several things to say darted through his brain before he dismissed them all as stupid. He felt more nervous than a nerd on a date with the cheerleader he's been crushing on his whole life. He mentally kicked himself. That's not why you're here. You're here because she could be... useful.  
With a tad more resolve now, he twisted the doorknob and crossed the threshold.  
He was greeted by darkness. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the low light he saw that the room was covered in white padding. There was nothing else except a shadow huddled into a corner of the room.  
His eyes made out the shape of a girl hugging her knees to her chest, and her face was buried into her skinny arms. He could make out her golden halo of hair that framed her form and he noticed the smallest of movements.  
She moved head slowly, so agonizingly slowly.  
She raised her eyes to meet his, her eyes of the bluest blue, her lips curled into a smirk.  
Jerome found himself breathing a sharp intake of air. She was just as he imagined her.  
That's her.  
My little Harley Quinn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the length of this chapter. I can't promise the next will be shorter, I have no idea what Harley and Mistah J want to talk about because honestly, it's up to them. I really hope that I got Jerome's antics and personality alright. Now Harley in the chapter is not your normal Harley. She is much more insane (yeah I know hard to believe right) and doesn't warm up to Jerome right away. She is very untrusting and has been through a lot. And can you guys imagine little Jerome's Harley diary? I just loved the idea of him drawing stick figures of him and Harley as a kid and thinking that they were the shit, and them slowly changing and developing as he grew older. I also don't see any sexual attraction between them at the moment. If you think there should be leave comments down below. I still refuse to do smut. Harley doesn't like sex anyways because of some experiences she had, also based off a character from Danganronpa. But please enjoy my horrible writing or at least laugh at it :)


	3. Find My One True Love Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jerome and Harley are getting to know each other, Dr Strange finds out and sets out to fix the chaos.

The two of them stared at each other, anticipation stretched taut like a rubber band. Harley's expression stayed the same, her eyes lit up, intrigued. The silence permeated the air like a balloon about to burst.

"Well?" She said.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" 

***

Dr Strange's eyes roamed the rec room, ignoring the unruly inmates, instead searching for something much rarer... sanity. If any of them had some, then he wasn't doing his job. 

He spotted Richard Sionis alone at a table, fists clenched and nostrils flaring. Dr Strange was mildly interested and headed over to the empty seat next to the angry man.

"Hello Richard. How are you today?" His was smile calm and tone condescending. Richard refused to look up from industrial steel table face. "Fuck off Strange. I haven't done anything against our agreement." 

The smile fell from the doctor's face. Since he'd been committed here they'd had a mutual understanding. He'd turn a blind eye to Richards dealings, favors and what not if he didn't act up. To bring it up though, something must have been wrong. Strange composed himself, all smiles once more.

"Of course you haven't. I just noticed you looked a bit upset and wanted to help you feel better." 

Sionis frowned. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

Strange's smile grew tighter. "Because it's my job Richard." 

The billionaire rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Dr Strange's nose wrinkled, Richard's voice really was nasal wasn't it? He straightened out his features and grinned. "C'mon Richard, you won't get in trouble." 

Sionis sighed, adjusted his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I promised Jerome a favor if he talked to Barbara Kean for me." Strange nodded, he'd seen that little exchange before. "I see. And then she fell for Jerome leaving you alone."

Richard jolted upright, glasses falling awkwardly off his face. "What! No!" He shook his head, struggling to regain his composure. "No, no,no he did what I asked but it was after he collected the keys he had the nerve to call me a homosexual! With a crush on him! The indignity!"

Strange would have laughed but he was too distracted by the other thing Sionis said. "What exactly was the favor?"

Richard shrugged. " I made a deal with him. I told him that if he talked to Barbara for me that he could have the keys to the Solitary room to see Harleen Quinzel."

The screeching of the chair legs against the floor made every head in the room turn. Strange was looming over Richard with a menacing glare and had his shirt clenched in his fist. "You. Did. What?" He growled. 

Two tables away, Dobkins nudged Aaron. "Ooh it's a girl fight."

Meanwhile for once Richard was at a loss for words. "I...I... you heard what I said."

"What does he want from her?"

"I already asked! He wouldn't tell me!"

Dr Strange swore, let go of the frightened man and walked away.

"I thought I wasn't in trouble!" Richard called out.

But he was met with a cold shoulder as the doctor left the room. 

***

Mrs Peabody was startled when Dr Strange stormed into the security room. He was usually so calm. Unless of course, there was something jeopardizing his mission. She hoped this was not the case. "What is it Doctor?"

"Jerome Valeska is in Solitary with Harleen Quinzel. Turn on the camera now!" Her breath hitched. It was worse then she thought. The two most dangerous inmates in the same room? This may be worst case scenario. She ran to the key pad and punched in a few buttons and the image of the two teenagers appeared on all the screens.

"Well? Aren't you going to say hello?" 

Mrs Peabody gasped, "She's speaking to him? She foresaw this?"

But Strange was watching them in awe. "No she... she didn't see this coming. That's why she's interested, she's..." 

He trailed off in wonderment and turned to face Mrs Peabody. 

"She's not bored anymore."


	4. Do You Think That It Could Be You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome and Harley talk for the first time.

"Aren't you going to say hello?"  
Jerome's mind raced back to his conversation to Barbara Kean. Everything he'd said was a rehearsal for Harley, hell his whole life had been a rehearsal... until this moment of course.  
He skipped over till he was less than an inch away and he plopped down cross legged in front of her.  
"Hi gorgeous, I'm Jerome."  
Instantly her expression turned stony and she looked past him at the padded wall, as if it were much more interesting then he could ever be.  
"If you ignore it, it'll go away." Her voice came across monotone, and the action seemed to prove she wanted to turn him away. But Jerome knew better. She had an attitude and he liked that. She was testing him. She wanted to play a game. And Jerome was more than happy to play along.  
Biting back a grin, he bared his teeth. "Just being polite." He hissed.  
"So what are you in here for?" He asked.  
Suddenly her eyes, and they were such pretty eyes, snapped back to his and she smiled cordially. "I'm just trying something new. Testing the waters." She said sweetly.  
Jerome slapped his knee and rolled over in a fit of hysterical giggles. Oh he loved it! How she acted like this was nothing more than trying a new hairstyle. As if she chose to come here. Then again it was very likely she did. God knew she was smarter then the rest of the loons in here, inmates and doctors alike.  
Harley just watched him as he rolled around. She watched him intently. When he was beginning to calm down she spoke up.  
"What about you? Why are you here?"  
Jerome paused. How on earth could he explain this? He could barely explain it to himself. He chose his next words very carefully. "I've been looking for you for a very long time Harley-girl. Ever since I was 7 years old."  
Her mouth didn't twitch, she betrayed no sign of surprise so he kept going.  
"When I heard you were also here, I guess I just had to see the dangerous girl myself."  
At this Harley put her head down, tucking it under her arms.  
"So you think I'm crazy?" She whispered, voice tinged in hurt.  
Jerome's eyes widened, he shook his head vigorously. He reached over and with an apprehensive manner stroked her hair. "No no no Harley-girl, you got it all wrong. When I heard of you I realized, you and I, we're the sanest people in this hellhole."  
Tentatively she raised her head. She smiled so angelically that for moment he almost regained hope in humanity. " You really think so?"  
Jerome smirked. "I know so baby doll."  
He noticed he was still absentmindedly stroking her hair and he pulled back, momentarily embarrassed. He struggled to come up with another subject and when he did he brightened up.  
"Well well doll face, is that a bit of Narrows accent I hear in your voice?"  
She nodded. "I used to live there."  
Jerome was surprised at this little piece of information, he had not read anything mentioning this. Her parents had been very important politicians and he knew they would never live in somewhere so dirty and crime filled as the Narrows. But he had a feeling that Harley wouldn't be so willing to share about that.  
When looked back at her, she was back in the same position again, head on knees. They sat in silence for what could have been hours, minutes, days. Neither of them knew. But they just sat there, each reveling in the others presence. Well at least Jerome was, Harley herself might have just lost interest in him. This thought disappointing him and he decided it was time to leave. Without a word he stood up and headed to the door. His fingers brushed the door knob...  
"Mistah J?"  
Jerome stopped in his tracks. That one word seemed to stop time. He turned to see Harley scrunching her black and white dress into her tiny fists, her eyes wide and sad and hopeful. And fixed on him.  
"Will you come back?"  
Jerome grinned.  
"Always Puddin."  
As he turned and skipped out the door with a little extra spring in his step he couldn't see the golden haired girl smirking in the corner of her cell.  
Buh bye  
Mistah J.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuuuuugh this chapter! I ship my two babies so much! And yes Jerome can be a puppy sometimes but this is still gonna be a violent relationship, they are violent people after all. But there are still questions to be answered. What did Dr Strange and Mrs Peabody think of this exchange? Why did Harley live in the Narrows? Is there something she hasn't told anyone? How does she really feel about Jerome? And what are her plans for him? I can't wait to write the next chapter! Remember if I get 100 kudos I'll write this story from Harley Quinn's point of view. I hope you enjoy!  
> P.S I just uploaded an Edward Nygma video of Youtube, comment if you want the link.


	5. If I Lay Really Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome reflects on his time with his little harlequin, while Doctor Strange and Miss Peabody argue over how to control the situation at hand. And who knows? Harley might have a few things to say about that.

~I can't remember when you hurt me so bad  
But now the tables turn  
Apocalypse is coming  
I can't remember how you made me so sad  
But in the end I learned  
It rains in hell  
And angels could be bad.~

 

The cool steel of the bed frame that jutted out from the brick wall was pressed against the inmates back. He ran his hand through his flame colored hair and his eyelids closed in contentment.

She had been so beautiful.  
So magical.  
Like an endangered flower in need of protection.  
He wanted to hold her bones broke, till his eyes burned right through her soul.  
He wanted to shatter her and tear her apart before building her up again, to create a wound that then he strives to cure with the most delicate attentions.  
The headlines and rumors described her as someone deranged and bonkers. A killing machine. And he had no doubt that she could do all those things. But the girl he met in that cell had been so calm, so certain of her sanity.  
But this, this was just a front for the devil that hid behind the angel's face. Her very presence crackled with energy, with potential, even when she didn't move a muscle. She was like the human embodiment a snake, keeping quiet, evaluating her prey... **before she striked ******.  
And her venom would no doubt be powerful. He chuckled.  Oh yes, he thought, fingers gingerly flitting over the two puncture wounds left by his mother's precious python. He'd had his fair share of experience with snakes.  
Maybe if he lay tight enough she would see him as a worthy opponent. Or better, a potential accomplice.  
His thoughts wandered to the memory of Harley upset at the thought of possibly being insane. It was just so funny! Never had he met someone so sure of there sanity, yet being so unstable. That got him to thinking... was he insane?>  
Everyone thought he was, and he loved to act the part, accentuate it to the point of no return. There was an art to it. It took a certain theatrical finesse. This is what he loved to do. But did he really think he himself was crazy?  
**No. ******  
The solid confirmation resounded in his mind. He was not insane. He knew he was what others would call nuts, but that was the very proof that he was not. That's because they were afraid. Afraid because they knew that they were just like him, the monsters inside of them yearning to be released.  
Just like my little harlequin.  
It was just so funny.  
Tonight he refused insomnia's clutches. Instead he closed his eyes and welcomed sleep. And he dreamed of her hands holding his bloodstained face with tenderness, her kiss tinged in cruelty. In the dream her eyes were twinkling angelically and her smile was scarlet with viciousness.

***

The fluorescent lights reflected off Doctor Strange's bald head, blinding Miss Peabody.  
Needless to say what she just witnessed frightened her.  
With Harleen and Jerome.  
Not the blinding light emanating from her fellow doctor's scalp.  
"This is preposterous! This throws the entire operation in danger! How on earth are we... Doctor?"  
Her tirade was interrupted by the look of glee on her coworker's face. She knew this expression. It always flitted across his features whenever he made a new discovery, or experienced a scientific epiphany.  
It never meant anything good.  
Miss Peabody pulled her ace out of the deck.  
"Strange, the Court won't like this!"  
If only momentarily, her words knocked the Asian man out of his stupor. He readjusted his glasses and beamed at the befuddled woman.  
"Is there a problem?"  
Her eyes almost popped out of her head.  
"A problem? There most certainly is! And what do you suppose we do about it Strange?"  
The strain showed in the screech of her voice, the erratic twitching of her fingers. She ought to lay of the coffee a bit, Strange thought to himself.  
Very slowly he plucked his glasses off the perch of his nose, produced a handkerchief out of a pocket, and began to rub the lens. He cast a glance at Miss Peabody, who was still waiting, impatiently he might add, for an answer.  
He let out an exasperated sigh, "Nothing."  
Miss Peabody thought she might die of shock. "Nothing?" She squeaked.  
Strange lifted his glasses towards the light, examining every angle for imperfections. "There is something abrew Miss Peabody. A rumble in Gotham's underworld. And it almost certainly has something to do with the Valeska boy. If it has anything to do with Miss Quinzel, that has yet to be seen." Ah, there! He pressed the cloth against a smudge that had just made itself known.  
"Jerome Valeska is something special. He doesn't have abilities like her. He isn't a meta-human but that's the thing, he doesn't need to be. His logic and world view is frightening enough. The things he should have no way of knowing, but does..." He shook his head and placed his now smudge free glasses upon the bridge of his nose. "Is absolutely fascinating. He has scared off all of his counselors and has attacked half the guards and inmates alike. His energy and ingenuity have shown no bounds but we have never seen weather he is capable of something such as love. He has shown no interest in it so far, and has only acknowledged sexuality when it can be used as a tool. And yes..."  
He put up a hand to stop Miss Peabody from interruption. "I know Harleen Quinzel will never open up to anyone sexually either but she may learn to love him."  
Miss Peabody was bewildered.  
"Love? She's not capable of that, Doctor you've seen the CAT scans, SHE CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING!"  
At this Strange span to her with such ferocity that she took a hurried step back. She didn't trust for one second the gleam in his beady eyes. They shone with excitement and greed and something else she couldn't quite identify but looked almost crazed.  
"Really? Are you so sure Miss Peabody? Science is all about proving the impossible is it not? Despite the scans she can indeed feel, her obsession with despair is the proof. I believe her emotions are certainly there, just muted. And who better to bring them out than the happiest boy on earth?"  
Pleased with his argument he turned toward the computer screens, showcasing Harleen as she sat smirking in the solitary cell.  
"Anyway, I'm sure the Court won't mind if I carry out a little experiment of my own."  
Realizing how futile it was to argue with the stubborn man, Miss Peabody changed the subject. "So what do we do with them?"  
Strange turned to his colleague, his face eager once more. "Like I said, nothing for now. We will let them continue their little playdates. They needn't know we've cottoned on to their little shenanigans. Until Miss Quinzel's next fit of course. And then like a snake, **we'll strike!"**  
So distracted were they as they plotted, the two doctors failed to notice the computer screens, as the blonde haired girl's eyes stared directly into the camera.  


Why, it was almost as if she was watching them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry some of the italics and bold were messing up so apologies. And yes I know what you're thinking. You are currently in a state of shock because all you can say right now is, "did she really just say that Harley has powers?" Well, HELL YEAH I DID! What powers though, are you curious? Well all shall be revealed... later in the story. I'd love to hear your thoughts on that. On that note, MY PRECIOUS LOOKS GORGEOUS IN THAT TAN TRENCH COAT HE'S BEEN SPORTING IN THE GOTHAM PROMO'S! And I totally know nothing about what happens in the new episodes next year.   
> Nup.  
> Nothing.  
> What are you talking about?  
> *runs*


	6. Get Into A Fake Bar Fight

~ What the hell would I be without you  
Brave face talk so lightly  
Hide the truth  
Cause I'm sick of losing soulmates  
Won't be alone again  
I can finally see you're as fucked up as me  
So how do we win~

Jerome Valeska was not a morning person.  
He'd always had a penchant for the bitter taste of a scalding hot coffee, a beverage prohibited from Arkham's inmates. Of course this did not stop the guards and various other staff from sipping their mugs in front of the caffeine starved patients, the scent wafting through the air, tempered down only by the smell of Zoloft and the whiskey residents would slip into their morning cup of energy.  
Now this little act of disrespect against people with such... fragile mental health seemed just plain rude to Jerome, and it almost always put him in an irritable mood in the mornings.  
But this morning was different. Today he skipped merrily through the corridors. Nobody knew the reason for his jubilant, and since most of them had been the receiving end of his wrath before, most orderlies kept out of his way.  
But Nurse Bough tried valiantly to make the maniacal ginger go back to his cell. However, he barely spared her a glance, much less a second one, before slamming her head into the wall beside them, leaving behind a rather sticky scarlet stain.  
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly! La la la la la..." He let out a harsh bark of laughter before continuing on his jolly way.  
It was the Christmas season and Jerome was in a giving mood. He'd always considered himself a... generous soul, and now was the perfect time to show that to his little harlequin.  
This marked the second time he went to see her. She wanted to see him again! That thought was the only thing sustaining him at this particular moment of coffee deprived days.  
And it was Christmas! He had the perfect present for his Harley too! He wanted to make this the most... entertaining Christmas she'd ever had.  
His memories of Christmas weren't particularly warm and fuzzy. The only gifts he ever received were the punches delivered by the drunken fists of his Ma and whoever she was sleeping with that night. So in reality, Christmas was the same as every other night.  
His skipping stopped abruptly.  
He had arrived.  
His fist met the cool steel of the door, and his playful knock reverberated through the empty halls.  
He knows that she can't open the door from the inside and for a second he wonders about letting her out. But then he realizes that she's not like the others and that's exactly why he's here, and if she really wanted to leave she would have done so ages ago.  
So Jerome slipped the key inside the lock, opened the door and stepped inside.  
Once again he was momentarily blinded by the darkness. But then his eyes adjusted and once again he could see her.  
She did not appear to have moved since the last time he saw her.  
Jerome wondered if her bones ached, if her joints were numb from inactivity. Then again she didn't appear to be someone who felt something insignificant as pain.  
He grinned.  
"Merry Christmas Harley-girl!"  
For a moment it looked like she wouldn't respond, but then her face rose up to meet his, azure eyes opened wide, and she smiled.  
She smiled at him.  
"Jerome."  
It was statement not a question, and it's message relayed recognition and relief. Jerome knew it was all an act but it made him pleased that she had tried.  
That was his Christmas present.  
"Smile again. You're so beautiful when you smile."  
She giggled, and it was so light, so airy and carefree that it made his blood rush.  
In a few skips his long legs made their way towards her and like a child he hopped down to the floor.  
"How have you been?" He asked.  
This time she didn't answer. She just stared at him, eyes seeing more of his soul then they should have. Eyes seeing him for what he really was. Eyes which contained something equally as dark and dangerous.  
He refused to be dettered, hands reaching into his jumpsuits pockets. "I got you a present gorgeous."  
Harley's eyes brightened, but she didn't blink.  
He pulled a tube of lipstick, the packaging chipped and hideously stained, but the product it's self was untouched.  
He held it out towards her, arm outstretched, eyes locked on hers and not moving, not blinking not breathing.  
But then Harley's gaze shifted to the lipstick and she slowly tugged it out of his grasp. Their fingertips brushed, and the sensation almost made Jerome jump. The energy that surrounded her on a constant basis skyrocketed to new heights when he touched her.  
She was so cold.  
As her arm retreated to the darkness, he caught a glimpse of a reddish purple blur.  
Within an instant Jerome had Harley's limb in his firm grasp.  
They stared at each other.  
Harley's face was expressionless once more.  
So was Jerome's.  
"Well what do we have here dollface?" He asked, tone deceptively lilting and light.   
They sat in silence as his eyes raked up her arm. Her skin was a mass of purple bruising and cigarette burns. Her flesh littered in white lines and red scars, some self inflicted but most were not.  
He looked into her eyes again, the baby blue eyes that held so much and gave away so little. He knew she wouldn't tell him anything today. Jerome's gaze locked on hers, he released her arm without a word.  
Instantly she seemed to forget it ever happened, focusing once more on her gift. She regarded it with an almost childlike wonder, looking at it from different angles as if she could see clearly in the nonexistent light. Who knows, maybe she'd spent so long in the darkness that she'd become one with the shadows themselves.  
It seemed that she soon lost interest, and she returned to her customary position. But Jerome was a patient man. He knew that despite all appearances, that the show wasn't over. Was it ever really with the two of them?  
Suddenly Harley straightened up, expression completely different than before. Her mouth had twisted into a smile, a spark in her demeanor that hadn't been there before.  
"Jerome? Jerome? D'ya wanna see something cool?" She asked, her tone hushed and excited.  
Another game. She wanted to play.  
Well so do I.  
Jerome nodded eagerly.  
Harley glanced down again and her hands reached behind her protective wall of knees and legs, and between her thighs, and pulled out a stuffed animal.  
Ha! He knew she'd been looking at something! But the question was why...  
Harley seemed oblivious to the fact that Jerome was lost in his own thoughts and she enthusiastically waved the toy in front of him. "I want you to meet someone Mistah J! His name is Mister Buttons!"  
The object with that name seemed worn and weary with old age. It was an stuffed rabbit toy, a rag doll if you will, the fabric dirty and grey. It had two mismatched buttons for eyes, one blue and one red.  
It looked like it had fallen apart several times but had been sewed haphazardly back together. And he couldn't help but notice a small spatter of a suspiciously scarlet stain on it's ear....  
"Well Mistah J? D'ya like him?" She asked enthusiastically. Jerome looked at her face so full of hope and smiled.  
"That I do, Harley-girl."  
She looked absolutely thrilled to gain his approval. Her fingers found the lipstick he gave her and she began to ramble on. "I love people who don't smile. Ever. And I love people who smile. I love your smile, have I ever told you how much I love your smile? It's almost clown like and I do love clowns ever so much.  
"You know what Mister Buttons is missing? A smile, he needs to smile all the time like you do. That would make him..." She paused, dreamily lost in her own thoughts.  
"Lovely."  
She picked up Mister Buttons, and she studied him studiously as she applied lipstick on his mouth. She drew it on his face with the precision of a surgeon. When she was satisfied with her work, she excitedly waved the toy around in Jerome's face.  
"All done!"  
The crimson jaggered smile gave a the once seemingly innocent toy a sinister look. Jerome felt the corners of his own mouth extended, till he himself was grinning from ear to ear.  
"Perfect."  
As she became absorbed with playing with the raggedy toy again, another question crossed his mind.  
"Harley?"  
She didn't look at him but he could sense she was listening.  
"Harley... Why did you live in the Narrows?"  
At this she became still. She wasn't breathing and neither was Jerome.  
And then he heard it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap.  
> I AM ALIVE!  
> I am so sorry it took me forever to update but I have been busy.  
> I have been GOTHAM BUSY.  
> Of course I wanted to take a break so I could see what would happen to my gorgeous ginger in season 3 and I worked on theories and sent leaked Gotham pictures to Youtuber JUICEFROMTHEBOX, who's channel you should check out.   
> And then... I GOT ACKNOWLEDGED BY TWO GOTHAM CAST MEMBERS!   
> YES YOU HEARD ME RIGHT! I was acknowledged by David Dastchmachilan, (who's name I'm sure I just butchered), who you may know as Dwight from Gotham or as Thomas Schiff from The Dark Knight. And also by... CAMEREN BICONDOVA WHO JUST HAPPENS TO ACT AS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER! (Well she's tied with Jerome and Edward Nygma). I am still shocked by the fact that she thought I was worthy to speak to.  
> Also in one month I AM GOING TO MEET AND INTERVIEW CORY MICHEAL SMITH AKA EDWARD NYGMA AKA THE RIDDLER!  
> I have been a busy girl.  
> Also if you have any questions you would like to ask Cory, directly from me to him, please comment them down below. I will give you his answer as soon as possible after the meeting.   
> I also was GIVEN VIP TICKETS AND INVITED TO GO TO A PANIC AT THE DISCO CONCERT AS THEIR GUESTS! It was an amazing experience and I am quite frankly dead from it so please forgive me for taking so long with this chapter.  
> AND HARLEY QUINN IS OFFICIALLY COMING TO GOTHAM IN SEASON 3 EPISODE 22! SO HAPPY! In fact we might have spotted her already... ALL I CAN SAY IS THAT IT BETTER BE ELLE FANNING OR SASHA PIERTERSE!  
> Sorry for the rant but 2017 has already been such a fast paced year and like I stated before...  
> IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS YOU WOULD LIKE TO ASK CORY MICHEAL SMITH PLEASE COMMENT THEM DOWN BELOW.  
> I bet no other writer on here can give you this opportunity, so get in while you can :)


	7. As I'm Walking Down The Avenue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little trip down memory lane  
> A lane that's located in the Narrows...

~Go ahead and cry little girl  
Nobody does it like you do  
I know how much it matters to you  
I know that you got daddy issues  
I didn't cry when you left at first  
But now that you're dead it hurts  
This time I gotta know  
Where did my daddy go?~

 

Grass poked through the cracks of the pavement as she walked down the avenue back to her house.  
Used syringes and cigarette butts also crisscrossed the footpath in lazy patterns.  
But the child ignored this, her feet skipping in between shards of shattered glass. Mama had never liked her walking home by herself in the Narrows, but Papa had never really cared. Normally Daphne would be walking with her but she'd gone to a sleepover with a friend.  
Daphne had always been the outgoing twin, and yet Daphne was her only friend in the world, except for Mama and Mister Buttons. Of course, that's who she was walking home with today.  
The little girl clutched the toy rabbit to her chest. She'd always have Mister Buttons. And she'd always have Mama.  
Mama had promised her.  
But Mama had also told her that when her wings came through that the Faeries would take her away, they would take her little girl away.  
She said this when she crawled into bed with her at night, eyes shrink wrapped in tears, and she'd weep and stroke her hair. "Oh my girl, my little faerie, they'll take you away from me, they will, they will..."  
It made her scared.  
She wouldn't let the faeries take her away. She loved her Mama.  
Her fingers brushed her cheek. Mama had painted her face red white and blue like the clowns she used to work with, when she was part of the show at Haly's Circus. That had been before she and Daphne had been born though. But she seemed to share her Mama's affinity for clowns, she loved how they smiled and laughed all the time.  
She stopped in front of a filthy one story house, one that looked almost condemned. She didn't care though. It was home.  
She climbed over the wire fence and skipped towards the decrepit patio. She paused at the door. There was yelling and the sounds of things smashing inside. Her breath caught in her throat.  
Papa never came out of his studio at this time of day. And she wasn't in the cupboard yet. She didn't know what to do, stay on the patio until it was over or go inside. A few minutes of pondering decided it, she very well couldn't leave her Mama with no one to protect her.  
So tentatively her hands grasped the almost broken gold door knob and she entered the house.  
It was the worst decision of the little girl's life.  
///  
As she crept through the halls the arguing only became louder. But it wasn't a normal argument where two people scream that on of them is right and the other was wrong. No, in this argument Papa yelled at her Mama, fists swinging punches at her in his rather drunken state, while she cried and begged him to stop.  
The child jumped at the sound of yet another plate smashing. "Crazy bitch!", her Papa shouted. "Please, think of the children!", Her mom wept. "The twins used to love painting the faces on your dolls, they could help get your business running again..."  
Amanda Quinzel let out a yelp as she dodged another flying kitchen utensil. "No! Those girls will end up just as crazy as you are. Stupid little freaks! They'll start hearing voices soon, already one of them is sick in the brain. Emotionless my ass! You are all puppets! Nothing more than that..." The man growled.  
"She is not sick! She's gonna be with Lila's boy, I told ya!"  
The slap that followed that sentence caused the little girls curiosity to over take her fear and she peeked past the wall into the dimly lit kitchen, a lone yellow light bulb lit the scene, swinging precariously over Mama and Papa.  
The little girl realized to late that her Papa was holding a kitchen knife in his hand, long and garish. Amanda realized it a heartbeat after and started to walk backwards, away from the little girl's murderous Papa. He began to advance towards her and soon had her cornered.  
"I have no time for your schizophrenic bullshit right now. No one cares about your useless promises that you can't me, like the one where you said you'd stay with me in sickness and in health, the one where you said you didn't care about my past, like the one where you said you loved me and my business!" His fist slammed against the cabinet above her and she whimpered.  
The grin that spread across his face was sick and sinister. He leaned in close to Amanda, his back facing the little girl. "Time to grow up circus girl." He whispered.  
The little girl watched in stunned silence as the blonde woman begged for mercy, she watched her Papa dismiss her pleas with a crazed look in his eyes. Then he stabbed her. The child couldn't help it, she let out a little scream. Her Papa was too caught up in the moment to notice but Amanda looked over his shoulder, her mouth forming a perfect O shape.  
Run, she mouthed.  
"I love you." She croaked.  
And with those parting words Harleen Quinzel watched her mother slump down against the kitchen bench, leaving a streak of sticky scarlet.  
///  
Her Papa turned around. His intoxicated eyes roamed around the room until they fixed upon the blonde girl in clown makeup, blue eyes wide with something akin to terror or shock, or maybe something in between.  
He grinned.  
"Do you want to play Harley?"  
She shook her head slowly. "W-why d'ya do that Papa?" She whispered.  
Now it was his turn to shake his head, smirking as he did it, and he began to stalk towards the frightened little girl. "Because that's what Grownups's do Harley. That's what you all do when you grow up. Maybe if we'd tried it when we were younger then we wouldn't become grownups like we are now."  
She held Mister Buttons a little bit tighter. " I... I don't understand Papa."  
He chuckled.  
"You? Little miss genius doesn't know what I'm talking about? You yourself are going to grow up too one day." Harley noticed that his usually calm looking eyes had some sort desperation about him, and his half bald head glinted under the light bulb.  
He dropped the knife.  
He reached down to pick up something.  
"Pa... P-Papa!" She choked on the words as they tripped past her tongue.  
Her father picked up a long and heavy black object. He twirled the crowbar around his fingers.  
"Now now Harley, do you want to play?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH A FLASHBACK SCENE!
> 
> Damn right, it's me and daaaamn this chapter is a doozy, and it's the scene that I had envisoned for Harley a long time before I created this story  
> .  
> Now here is your homework for this week... Who is Harleen Quinzel's dad? If you work it out I'll give Cory Micheal Smith a hug and a kiss for you. But seriously I've been leaving crapload of clues for you to untangle so far so have fun with that. Also he has actually apperaed in Gotham, with no backstory so far and he doesn't really have much of one in the comics too so that gives me a lot of free reign devolping this badass (but also assholish) character.
> 
> Now I know what you are all thinking... "Wait a sec, didn't Harley kill her parents and her twin?"  
> Well the answer is YES SHE DID! Although the answer for that is so goddamn easy to guess tho.
> 
> And did ya'll hear a mention of a certain son of one Lila by Amanda Quinzel? And did you notice that Amanda worked at HALY'S CIRCUS! I see that Jerome Valeska and Harleen Quinzel have a little more history with each other than they both think.
> 
> And now we also have the dynamic of Harley's twin sister Daphne being introduced into the story, another thing I really wanted to do because as far as I know this hasn't been done before. Also it is mentioned that Harley loves her sister, so why would she kill her? Well you shall soon see... 
> 
> And yes I'm sorry that Jerome did not make an appearance in this chapter, but don't worry, in the next chapter it will be back to his POV. And remember Doctor Strange is still tinkering away with his "plans" and Miss Peabody is hoping that they will escape the Court Of Owls wrath but will they?
> 
> ALSO I MADE A MISTAKE I WILL BE INTERVIEWING CORY IN TWO MONTHS NOT ONE.
> 
> And to Goddess of Eternal Spring, you are a doll, I blush too everytime I see your reviews, I do not deserve a fan as awesome as you :) I will also ask Cory every one of your questions. And I am a Youtuber, I edit videos from different fandoms, this story is based on one of them but I wouldn't recommend you watch it unless you want MAJOR SPOILERS! But I sent my theories and the leaked photos to Juice via Instagram and he talked about all that extensively in one of his video's.
> 
> Fun fact for everyone some new character's on television lately are starting to seem alarmingly similar to my Harley, including Syd Barret from Legion and Eurus Holmes from Sherlock and, especially with Eurus, I love her character but she is so much like mine it isn't funny, like go watch that episode right now and see how similar they are, from the same looking at the camera like she can see them, to the genius, to the way she sits especially at the Holmes estate and the way she interacts with Moriarty. It's got me mighty suspicious...
> 
> And once again everyone thank you for all the likes and kudos, if I get 100 kudos/following/favorites I will rewrite a copy of this story with Harley's full POV. Reviews are welcome :)


	8. If I Lay Really Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a strange dream...

~Small and white  
Clean and bright  
You look happy to meet me~  
Arkham Asylum was empty.  
Jerome Valeska did not know why this was the case but he was not about to complain, because he was not entirely alone. The girl with the golden hair stood on the other side of the unfurnished rec hall, tables gone.  
Harleen Quinzel's pale feet started to walk towards him and her eyes stayed on his, not once taking the time to blink.  
When they were less than an inch apart they stood in watchful silence, a silence that consumed them both and so many worlds beyond.  
Jerome Valeska smiled.  
“Milady,” Suddenly he bowed with an extravagant flourish. “May I have this dance?”, he asked.  
Harley, eyes unmoving, cocked her head to the side. “There's no music.” She murmured quietly.  
Jerome looked at her quizzically, “Who needs music to dance?”  
Harley cast her eyes down, “I do.” She whispered.  
He rolled his eyes and raised his hands up, palms facing forwards. Harley raised an eyebrow. “You surrender?” Jerome let out a laugh.  
“Surrender? No Puddin, do what I'm doing.”  
She frowned but complied, mirroring his pose. “Do you want a high five?”, she asked, voice unsure.  
He just smiled.  
“Place your hands on mine.”  
Harley looked at him, her expression was one close to fear. It was the very least evident that somewhere in her head a voice was screaming, probably the thing closest to sanity that she had, and it screamed that he was untrustworthy. But there had to be a little part of her that did trust him, because she did as he asked.  
Once again the cold of her hands sent a shock through him. Was she even human? But then he interlaced his fingers with hers and in the light he had a full view of the scars and burns that graced her arms. Of course she was merely human, it was silly of him to think otherwise. She and him were the only humans who were really true to themselves.  
Their feet began to move, slowly, cautious, like babies taking their first steps. At first they both refused the idea of no eye contact, but then Jerome leaned in closely to her ear.  
He began to sing.  
“Edelweiss, edelweiss, every morning you greet me.” He began, his voice smooth as ever.  
“Small and white, clean and bright...”  
At this Harley closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. He stopped for a moment, before clearing his throat and continuing on.  
“You look happy to meet me.”  
All of a sudden Jerome heard a voice, high pitched and lilting, that began to sing the next line.  
“Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever.”  
He chuckled in contentment. She was more wonderful than he had ever imagined. He never knew that violence could be so beautiful.  
In unison, they continued their jerky awkward movements and in unison they both sang.  
“Edelweiss, edelweiss, bless my Gotham forever.”  
He pulled back for moment. He wanted, no he needed, to see her face. She stopped singing and calmly watched him study her. She looked exactly the same, the same fuchsia bow shaped mouth, the same pert button nose and the same eyebrows that were so much darker than the color of her hair but he must have seen something else because his eyes widened.  
“What are you?” He whispered.  
Harley didn't answer.  
Slowly, he raised his hand to brush a stray lock of blonde hair away from her face and he tucked it behind her ear. On his own, never once looking away from her face, he began to sing again.  
“Edelweiss...”  
The room was covered in blood, but it was gone quicker than it came.  
“Edelweiss...”  
There were bodies this time, mangled rotting corpses that filled the space between their feet, but they were gone in a second and Jerome didn't care cause his eyes were on Harley and he was leaning close, closer than they had ever been before.  
“Bless my Gotham...”  
The blood was on them this time, dripping from head to toe But it was there and then it wasn't and then it was again, but he was so close...”  
“Forever...”  
And they were a hairs breadth apart but if Jerome had cared to look up at that moment he would have realized that those corpses were all the same, with the same golden hair but then...  
“HEY GINGER! I'M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU.”  
Jerome blinked, and he realized it wasn't Harley in front of him but Barbara who was sitting on the opposite side of a table.  
She didn't look particully pleased.  
“Are you done with your little daydream, I need someone to have a conversation with.”  
He was in the rec room but all the tables were still here and sadly the inmates weren't dead. He guessed something were too good to be true. He turned to Barbara, “ What about Aaron or Richie poo? I'm sure both of them would be rather eager to have a chat with you.”  
She frowned, “What, Thing one and thing two? You expect me to have an intelligent conversation with them? I need someone who doesn't have the I.Q of a plastic pot plant.” Jerome shrugged, “Well then I see that I am indeed your only option, besides your own reflection.”  
Barbara's tone turned to an almost annoying wheedling pitch. “Will you please? You can even pick the topic of conversation, I can give you the answers you need.” She pouted, “Pretty please? For me?”  
Jerome chortled quietly. “How can I resist that?"  
Quietly pleased with herself and her exceptional influence on men, she settled herself in her seat. “So ginger, what do you want to know? Who do you want the gossip on? The mayor? Taylor Swift? Bruce Wayne? Come on, give me a name, I know everything about everyone.”  
He didn't have time for her games. There was only one person he wanted to know about. He leaned in close, only daring to whisper her name.  
“Harleen Quinzel.”  
//  
Meanwhile, in the maximum security ward of the asylum, Harley woke up from the first sleep she'd had since she came to Arkham two years ago. Rubbing the last remnants of the Sandman's handiwork from her eyes, she abruptly stopped and sat up straight.  
“I had the strangest dream.” She said to nobody in particular.  
She turned to the cameras, staring straight into the pair of curious eyes on the other side.  
“I had the strangest dream.” She said to two somebodies in particular.  
Then she turned back, hunched over her knees and she began to rock back and forth, muttering almost intelligible words, the ravings of madness. But if you listened closely you could hear... “Edelweiss, edelweiss...”  
//

There is something wrong.  
Terribly wrong.  
For if Jerome had only looked away from the girl's face for a moment he would have realized.  
He would have realized that the corpses were not of the inmates...  
The corpses were all Harleen Quinzel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know you are all going what the actual crap is this. What is going on? I know this chapter is sought of trippy but there is oh so many hints of what's to come. So please remember this chapter. And this song if you can. Like really the song is one of the most important parts of the story.  
> Now, some smart ones will notice that what Harleen actually said to Jerome about why she lived in the Narrows hasn't been mentioned. If you noticed that, good job, I'll probably reveal that in the next chapter, you have all been given a sneak peek into her past but did she really tell Jerome anything? Her response was probably not what you think it was... and it's going to turn the whole story on its head! If you think you know what she said, please leave comments down below.  
> Now on to important business... WHY HAS NOBODY WORKED OUT WHO HER FATHER IS? Come on, I made it really easy for you guys, there is SO MANY CLUES I thought at first that I had made it too easy. PLEASE TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IT IS!  
> Also, I love Barbara, I can't do her Justice with my writing but I love her character and how she and Jerome interact.  
> MAJOR LEGION SPOILERS AHEAD SKIP THIS IF YOU ARE NOT UP TO EPISODE 4!  
> Fun fact of the day, one of my biggest theories of Legion that I kept suggesting to other members of the currently very small Legion fandom, the one that has been shut down so many times by the others, has finally been revealed. FROM EPISODE 2 I TOTALLY CALLED THE FACT THAT LENNY WAS THE YELLOW EYED MONSTER! People kept telling me I was wrong but I kept insisting and it turns out I was correct. It is also possible though that Lenny was a real person at Clockworks, because Syd met her and killed her, but I could be wrong about that, because it appears that Syd can also see the monster so you know.  
> Yep, that's my rant of the day, sorry bout that.  
> Now I'm going to go waltz with a certain ginger, who in my ear will whisper these words...  
> "Edelweiss..."


	9. I Know That What I Do Isn't Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stabbing, pushing and drowning, oh my!  
> Barbara fills in Jerome on Harley's rather eventful past...

~As I look back upon my life  
It's always been with a sense of shame  
I've always been the one to blame...~

Barbara Kean grinned ferociously.  
Harleen Quinzel was a name she hadn't heard for a long time, and it wasn't one she'd soon forget.  
The question was why the red headed boy wanted to know about her. But she learnt that in her line of work, you don't ask questions.  
The answers always ended up finding her anyway.  
"Ah Harleen," She murmured. "Good choice."  
Jerome's eyes narrowed, "And why is that?"  
The gleam in the blonde woman's eyes was undeniable.  
"Because I know this story first hand. I was friends with her."  
//  
Jerome was silent for a moment.  
"You're kidding." He said facial features as still as she'd ever seen them.  
"Nope!" She beamed. "Didn't you know? Before I was sent into this cesspit I was a socialite, daughter of some very rich and influential parents..."  
"Who you killed." Jerome supplied.  
"Whom I killed, yes indeed. They were the one who destroyed my soul, little by little, repressing who I really was, shattered my dreams..."  
Jerome impatiently cleared his throat and Barbara stopped short. "Oops sorry. Who wants to hear about me anyway? You want to hear about little miss sociopath."  
She sighed. "Harleen and I ran in the same social circles. We got along well, my parents overly rich fools and her father an overly rich politician. We went shopping together a few times. You wouldn't realize there was anything wrong with her, if you didn't know. But this was the high society of Gotham, everyone who was anyone knew about her past."  
She paused. "You know, if you looked at her eyes though, if you looked closely, you could see that she could see you."  
Jerome's expression became curious. "Could you... elaborate?" Barbara's facial muscles scrunched, pensive like, before she nodded and tried to find the best way to explain it in a way that didn't sound like insanity and paranoia.  
"When she looked it you, it was like she was seeing you, not the fake smiles we put on everyday, not our public image or fabulous looks but us, the soul behind the shell. She could see every little secret, every flaw, every scandal and that's why no one crossed her. There has been rumors about what she could do for many years."  
"Like what?"  
Barbara's eyes rolled lazily towards him.  
"Like murder."  
He nodded. "She's sought of an urban legend among the common folk." He spat the words with distaste, every syllable a reminder of the twittering bags of skin and bones not worthy of cleaning his or her shoes. "They said she killed her twin, her grandmother, and this was before her other crimes were revealed."  
Despite himself, Jerome could not stop the words from the last conversation he had with Harley from running through his head. "I was adopted." She said. Her expression had become one of recognition. "Do I know you?" Now he was determined to see if he did. He had always had such a clear image of her in his head, but why? Hopefully Barbara could answer that.  
She smirked.  
"Let's from the start shall we?"  
//  
Harleen Quinzel was not always a Quinzel. The day she and her twin were adopted they became Harleen and Daphne Robertson. They were adopted by Sally and Peter Robertson, Peter being one of Gotham's most popular politicians.  
The whole thing was a publicity stunt, to show how kind and caring they were. The girls were always dressed in frills and lace, and given the prettiest dollies they could imagine. But Harley refused to ever put down the rabbit rag doll her mother made for her, much to her parents chagrin. They even gave her makeup, to cover up the scars. But these toys, these luxuries, were just distractions to keep them occupied while Sally and Peter attended events.  
One night they left the girls at home while they attended an important gala, with their nanny of course. That was a night that went horribly wrong.  
The twins were playing with their dolls in the kitchen when their nanny left them alone for a few minutes, most likely to go to the bathroom.  
The girl continued to play but when they came into a disagreement about who got one of the dolls, Daphne stole the rag doll, Mister Buttons she called him, from Harleen. That was a big mistake.  
Harley went over to the kitchen drawer, and a particular knife caught her attention. She knew what she had to do.  
She calmly walked over to her sister. And she stabbed her through the stomach.  
Again.  
And again.  
And again.  
Her nanny found her standing over the body, clutching Mister Buttons to her chest... and smiling. It wasn't even an evil smile, like it should've been. It was simply the innocent smile of a child who was proud of the stick figures she'd drawn on the concrete. The smile of a child who'd scored an A on a test,not the smile of a child who had just maliciously murdered her sister in cold blood.  
Her nanny promptly fainted.  
When her parents arrived she was still there,still smiling, her Mary Jane shoes now surrounded by the crimson pool that was continuously leaking from Daphne's body, but it did not hide the metallic shine of the blade, glinting in the kitchen light, lying by the corpse's side.  
"Shhh," Harley said. "She's sleeping!"  
It took a few minutes for Sally and Peter to break out of their horrified stupor. Once they got past the fear, they realized that if this ever got out, it would be very bad for their image. How would it sound if one of the twins they adopted was a psychopath? How would it make them look? Like they couldn't make good decisions,that's how they would look. And if they couldn't make good decisions for their family how could they make good decisions for Gotham? That wouldn't get them any votes.  
So they pulled Harley aside and had a talk with her. She shouldn't have done this. Killing people is wrong. She mustn't do it ever again. If she doesn't want to get taken away to the place for bad people, she has to do what they say. She has to say a man broke in while the nanny was unavailable, and when Harley grabbed a knife to defend herself, the bad man stole it from her and stabbed her sister, before leaving Harleen shocked and scared. The nanny saw the body and fainted. That's what happened.  
They roused the nanny and told her this was what happened.  
"No!" She screamed. "I saw her, I saw her she was smiling at me, like I was to be proud of her or something. "  
She shut up after they offered her $2000 dollars to keep quiet about the incident.  
So that's what went to the press. The Robertson's had asked for Commissioner Jacobs himself. They paid him huge amounts of money to get rid of any evidence relating to Harley, and she got off Scot free.  
But next year she did it again.  
She'd always liked the Grandmother better than the rest of the Robertson's. She'd always treated Harley as if she was a real person, not a puppet on strings, just a source of entertainment for Gotham's general public.  
But when Daphne died, she'd gotten the taste of a feeling she hadn't gotten since the death of her mother.  
She wanted it again.  
And none of the animals she mutilated were providing her the same satisfaction as when she drove the knife through her very own twins flesh.  
She was going to do it again.  
So she lured out her Grandmamma to the roof. "Let's look at the stars Grandmamma! Can you tell me their names?"  
"Well there's Alpha Centuri, Sirus, Vega, Bellatrix, Hamal..."  
She was still reciting their names when Harley pushed her off the ledge.  
Her parents had to bribe the Commissioner again but Harley didn't care.  
This feeling was all kinds of amazing, an elation that lifted her off of her feet and she lost complete control, the emotion itself was an ocean that dragged her within it's depths and she was drowning, absolutely drowning it!  
Was this what it was like to feel?  
Not to pretend to feel but to really, really be torn apart in a whirlwind of despair that removes the very stitching of your soul and leaves you completely undone.  
She loved it.  
She loved this despair.  
But it was faster than the wind and gone so suddenly.  
She was bored.  
She needed more.  
She decided to bring this feeling to the whole world.  
For what was as thrilling and chaotic as despair?  
///  
Harleen Quinzel decided that year that she ought to participate in extracurricular activity's. Her parents liked this idea, it would keep her busy and out of the house, and it would look good on her college application.  
First she started with gymnastics and ballet, which she had quite the flair for. Her flexible limbs allowed her to execute grand leaps and flips that no one had ever quite seen before.  
So no one argued when she asked to train in the martial arts.  
She quite liked Silat and Ninjitsu the most, but she dabbled in Karate, Tae Kwondo and even began fencing. She excelled at everything and she received many awards but every time she mastered something new, she'd get bored.  
So her repertoire rapidly grew. Drama and acting classes, archery, piano, Competitive dart throwing, Violin, she even joined the pistol club at the local gun range yet not a single person complained, even though the rumors about were still flying around.  
She was studying too. From a young age she'd shown interest in anatomy, chemistry and biology, but most of all it was the mind that fascinated her.  
And so began Harleen Quinzel's journey to become a psychologist.  
///  
She soon had to attend the Gotham School Of Excellence, when she got too smart for her governors and governess's to teach her. She had also morphed from an adorable little girl to a sultry beauty with bright blonde waves, a curvy figure that went well with anything she wore, and those wide blue eyes.  
Harleen was a hit among the students despite all those rumors, if anything that made her more mysterious and alluring. She kept an active social calendar, becoming head cheerleader and an honor roll student. She gathered a small group of girls around her and anyone who hung out with Harley became envied and powerful.  
But there was a heavy price to enter the group.  
You had to tell Harleen all of your secrets.  
You couldn't hide anything from her, many tried but she always, always knew. Sometimes they felt like she knew them already and that she was just taunting them by making them say it. But at the same time the girls loved this initiation ritual because Harley never told the secrets and she had this way about her, like if she bothered to acknowledged you, you were the most special person in the world. She was just so far more worldly and beautiful and smart than anyone else they'd ever met.  
But it was this that made her more dangerous than ever.

///  
When Harleen was 11 she had to attend yet another gala held by some ambassador, with her parents and she had nothing to pass the time with but a sketch book which she doodled and scribbled in while her parents kissed the asses of Gotham's higher up's.  
When she found that it was missing she was filled with anger. Well, as much anger as it was possible for her to pretend to have.  
Oh don't be judgmental. It gave her something to do.  
She marched out of the Ambassador's mansion and into the expansive backyard only to see a brunette girl standing by the pool, a girl named Penelope Martinez, who also attended the same school.  
And between her immaculately manicured fingers, was Harley's book.  
Let's play a game, a game my dear.  
She walked over to Penelope, who smirked greedily. "I know what you've been up to Harleen. I mean, I've always had my suspicions but this time it seems the rumors really are true."  
She begun to circle her.  
A game of fun a game of fear.  
"You act like you're this perfect rich bitch who is so smart and so pretty and oh so popular. You think you're little miss Dr Harleen Quinzel, the young aspiring psychologist. But no, you're no better than the people you want to treat. An insane therapist, who really would have thought?"  
Harleen raised an eyebrow.  
A knife, blade, bullet, gun.  
The malicious spark in Penelope's eyes grew. "What the matter, wondering how I know you still refer to yourself as Quinzel? The name of your dead mommy dearest? The name of your dead twin? It's scrawled all over the tattered notebook darling." She sneered.  
"Do you think you're better than us or something? You and that Narrows accent you hide, over Gotham's high society? You are nothing compared to us! And soon everyone else will know to, when I expose you in a few minutes. And if you think you can do something about it, then you really are crazy."  
She started towards the gala but Harley firmly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back in front of her.  
"I am not... crazy."  
I can't, I can't, which one, which one?  
She stared straight into Penelope's earthy brown eyes which were wide with fear.  
Because she saw something in Harley's blue ones.  
Something that shouldn't be there.  
The book fell from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.  
Two, seven, eight, none.  
Harley gripped so tightly to Penelope's shoulders that it would leave bruises, but she didn't have much time to dwell on that thought before Harley pulled them both into the pool.  
Just you wait, we've only just begun!  
Penelope sputtered as Harley dragged her deeper towards the blue tiled bottom, and she couldn't understand why, try as she might, she couldn't swim back up to the top. She felt so heavy, as if the world didn't want her anymore. As if she was dying and being sent to heaven.  
She could see one of the angels now, flying down with arms outstretched, and it's golden light around her head shining like a halo. It was grabbing her, taking her up to the heavens.  
The angel had such a lovely smile.  
Then she realized, that this couldn't be an angel.  
Angels didn't smile.  
This was Gotham, the city where angels were cruel and delivered wrath from the gods. Heaven and it's angels had forsaken this cesspit of human filth and crime.  
No this was not an angel.  
It was a demon.  
She realized then that Harley was drowning her.  
She began to struggle to the surface but Harley was stronger from all those times lifting up the other girls in the cheerleading squad. But Penelope's straining lungs got one taste of oxygen and she burst to the top only to have Harley push her head under again.  
"What.." Harley whispered quietly, sweetly almost, "Do I decide?"  
Spots were growing in Penelope's vision and darkness was coming very rapidly now. The demon was dragging her to hell.  
"You decide... Who..." Penelope's voice faded out as the darkness drowned her in it's wake.  
The last thing she saw was the demon, disguised as an angel, smiling down at her.  
//  
Sally and Peter found Harley a few minutes later seated over Penelope's motionless body. Sally let out a cry of panic and ran over to her. "Oh Harley what have you done? How do we explain this?" She broke out into sobs.  
"Oh be quiet." Harley groaned. "She's only unconscious, she's still very alive. But of course that's not what you're worried about, is it? You're worried that this will look made for your 'campaign' and your 'family image'."  
Her parents looked shell shocked. Never before had she spoken to them like that.  
Harley smirked. "I'll take your silence as your agreement. Now I know how to clean up this little mess and don't worry, this whole situation happened because the girl was going to expose us..." She placed emphasis on this word, to show that this girl was a threat to their little facade.  
"And it wasn't like I could do nothing about it. I had to take care of it. And like I stated before I know how to fix this. But in doing so you have to do exactly what I say, or I'll go to the press and tell them everything, but I'll also reveal what you did to me at drama. And you know I'll be fine then and you guys will have to pay for that. Now, do we have a deal?"  
Her parents petrified expressions told her the answer to that but after a moment they nodded any way.  
She giggled.  
"Ok then, now what you guys will say what happened was..."  
//  
"And so the press proclaimed Harleen a hero, the star student who saved her schoolmate from drowning at a party. Sadly the doctors found that when Penelope woke from her coma 2 weeks later, that she was suffering from delusions and hallucinations, most likely due to the concussion she got from the bottom of the pool. They shipped her to Arkham and she hasn't been heard from since."  
Jerome was, for the first time in a long time, shocked. "Wow... and you're saying that the Penelope girl is still here?"  
Barbara nodded. "Yep, she's not down here though. Since she was just sick and not a criminal they put her upstairs, the same level that Crane boy is on."  
"Hmm... very interesting. What's even more interesting is how detailed those stories were. How do I know you're telling the truth about the whole shebang?"  
Barbara sighed. "For one, like I said, I knew the girl even though I wasn't close to her. But then again barely anyone was. Two, I dated Jim Gordon and often had dinner with him and Harvey. And he likes to tell stories of his past cases and of course Harleen's was the biggest. And also... I saw the encounter with Penelope."  
Jerome's ginger eyebrows rose several inches up his milky forehead. "How?" He asked suspiciously.  
"Up in that Ambassador's mansion? There is several balconies accompanying the suites, Romeo and Juliet style. And that's where I was, sipping a martini when that happened. I felt conflicted about it at first, but I really like Harleen. She's spunky, she's clever and very entertaining to say in the least. Back then I used to say she was defending herself, the girl was blackmailing her after all. Even though Harleen also was blackmailing her parents but I didn't care. I think she knows that I saw it though. She always knows these sought's of things, things no little girl should know."  
The little crease of skin just above his eyes creased in confusion. "But... what was Harley talking about, with the "she decides" thing. What does she decide?"  
Barbara bared her teeth at this new piece of information. "Harley huh? Looks like someone has a nickname for her already. Care to share ginger?"  
The annoyance glinted in his green eyes and his voice dropped several pitches. "Tell me." He growled.  
Her pink lower lip jutted in a pout. "Spoil sport." She whined, and then she shook out her hair. "I don't know what that means. I'm guessing it was something in that book Penelope stole."  
Jerome perked in interest, and leaned forward. "What was in the book?" Barbara rolled her eyes. "Look kid, no one knows, except the little drowned rat. If you're so curious why don't you ask her, a simple stroll upstairs would do the trick."  
Jerome looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging and bounding us towards the iron gate that kept them in the rec room. He only got two steps away when he heard the words that would change his view on life forever.  
"But that's not even the best part! Haven't you ever heard of the Dollmaker's Daughter?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOP THERE IT IS! Aye aye yes yes yes! I'm so happy to FINALLY churn out this extremely long chapter. I apologize for it's length but there was a lot to cover as you would have read. AND DID YOU GUESS IT? DID YOU GUESS HARLEY'S DAD? Gold star if you did, cuz you are a smart cookie. I dropped many hints including the BIG ONE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER! I'm really excited to do this and see where this goes because no one, absolutely no one has done this before. 
> 
> The irony is, my Harley Quinn's back story is one I took from a mini novel I made quite a few years ago with an insane female lead character and this Harley is heavily based on that character who was not originally Harley Quinn or dating anyone. Her father was a... well you should have guessed it by now, and then I found out that there was a villan in the Dc comics EXACTLY LIKE HIM and I've been in love with The Joker, first Heath Ledger, now Jerome, for an awfully long time and I have always wondered... what if Harley was just as strong as the Joker, just as feisty and insane in her own right? What if that was what the Joker fell for, and she falls for him as well. I wanted to see them as equals, see their personality's crash and collide like an ocean in a storm, waves trying destroy each other so they can gulp for air. And yet they'll always come back to each other, because they make each other feel something they can't get from anything else and I am obsessed, absolutely obsessed with that idea.
> 
> ALSO CORY MICHAEL SMITH INTERVIEW AT THE END OF THE MONTH, SUBMIT YOUR PERSONALIZED QUESTIONS IN NOW DIRECT TO CORY, WHO WOULD LOVE TO TALK TO YOU! You will get you answers UNCHANGED, DIRECTLY from YOU to HIM! I am legit so excited for a behind the scenes look at this season of Gotham (and maybe next season *wink wink*) 
> 
> P.S JONATHAN FRIGGIN CRANE IS GONNA BE JOINING OUR LITTLE CAST HERE IN THE FABULOUS STORY OF LOVE YOU JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH! And maybe we will finally find out why the Joker and the Scarecrow dislike each other sooo much!
> 
> So hold on to your hats folks, cuz you ain't seen nothing yet!


	10. I Can't Stop What I Love To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out who Harley's father is, what happened that fateful night, the urban legend of the Dollmaker's Daughter and wait a sec... Why was Amanda Quinzel such good friends with Lila Valeska?

Mother was a bit naive  
And Daddy was a blinded thief  
Who went and stole away  
What was left of the remains of a family  
She'd hide away behind a door she kept locked  
But the walls weren't thick enough to block out  
The angry noises of the voices that once soothed her to sleep...

Jerome returned to his seat across from the blonde haired temptress, who's lips were more tantalizing to him not for their beauty, but the secrets they possessed.  
"Of course I've heard of the Dollmaker's Daughter. Everyone has." He told her, his tone cautious.  
What on earth is she bringing this up for?  
Barbara looked at him appraisingly . "Really now? A circus boy from outside of the city knows this story?"  
Jerome frowned, "I knew Harleen's story, even if it wasn't a detailed account. People talk at the circus and circus folks hear a lot of urban legends from all the towns and cities they travel to. Gotham happens to have the memorable ones. The child serial killer and the Dollmaker's Daughter. The latter was just a cautionary tale of domestic violence meant to scare kids."  
A shadow drew across his face. "It never did work on me."  
Barbara crossed her arms. "And it never crossed your mind for a second that the story was real?" He rolled his eyes, "Of course it did and it probably is knowing Gotham, but it's probably been fictionalized quite a bit for it reached my ears."  
Barbara bared her perfectly straight, never-needed-braces teeth. "Well go on then Ginger. Tell the story as you know it."  
He sighed. "There once was a Dollmaker who was a drunkard and he beat his wife. He had a daughter who constantly feared his wrath. She came home one day when he was extra angry. Blah blah, insert fight here, insert frightened child there. And then he kills the mom, right in front of the child. And then he tortures the child."  
Jerome winked, "I could have done better."  
Barbara looked unimpressed. "And then?"  
"He goes missing. The police find the girl almost dead and still clinging to her toy. She got dubbed the Dollmaker's Daughter and it became a really big thing. I still don't get how this fits..."  
All of the muscles in Jerome's face went slack.  
The blood stains on Mister Buttons.  
Harleen's accent.  
She was adopted.  
Adopted.  
Barbara giggled, "That's right ginger! It took you long enough to work it out! The Dollmaker's Daughter is none other than Harleen Quinzel."  
//

"No."  
The screech of chair legs on the metal floors made heads turn their way.  
"Th... it doesn't work. She couldn't... she can't be...."  
Barbara placed a hand on his arm. "She can and she is." She settled back down in her chair. "It will all make sense when I tell you the full story. Now sit back down before you make a scene. The last thing we need right now is a riot."  
//  
Amanda Quinzel was a circus girl.  
That was the most that anyone knew of her, anyone outside of the story. It was her husband and daughter that most people talked about.  
Francis Dulchmacher was a dollmaker.  
The best in fact. His creations were so life like they received many awards for their brilliance all around America. But for reasons unknown, Francis chose to settle down with his wife in the seediest part of Gotham, the Narrows.  
Another thing most people don't know, is that they did not just have a little girl, they had twins. Their names were Daphne Lila Quinzel and Harleen Francis Quinzel, the latter named after her father. All of them were Quinzel's now, as Francis decided to take his wife's name as it sounded catchier for his business.  
Their life was OK at first, as nice as one can be in Gotham, much less the Narrows. The twins got along well, and they soon began to attend the local school. But with advances being made with technology, Francis's business began failing. His porcelain dolls with their doe eyes and rosy cheeks were no match for Mattel and Hasbro. He needed something else, a new idea, something new something new...  
He began to drink.  
He would retreat to his studio downstairs everyday, holed up with bottles upon bottles that were hidden in crinkly brown bags. His wife and children rarely saw him. But the twins began to realize that when they lay in their beds at night, Francis would come upstairs and continually beat Amanda.  
Then it started to happen in the daytime when the girls were still at home. They managed to stay safe only because as soon as his ominous footsteps were heard, Amanda would grab the girls and put them in the kitchen cupboard. Sometimes Amanda got in as well, but mostly their just wasn't enough time. So Daphne and Harley would spend long hours in that dusty, small space with bated breath, with only the sounds of their mother's screams to let them know that she was still alive. The tears would roll down their cheeks silently and they would tell themselves in the secret language that only abused kids know, where vowels are wet eyes and constants are the flinches from loud noises, that they would a better life for themselves. A better world for them all, where their whole family would be happy.  
As you already know, this never happened.  
A year later, the twins were seven years old and it was costume day at school. Daphne went as a princess and Harley a clown. Harley had to go home herself that afternoon as Daphne had gone to a sleepover. When she arrived though, her father had left his studio earlier than usual. Amanda and Francis were fighting and from the sounds of it, Amanda was losing. Harley saw it all. She saw Francis stalk towards her mother, knife in hand.  
She watched her mother die.  
When Francis saw her he beat her with a crowbar and refused to give her food or water. This went on for two weeks, Harley lying there in a pool of her own blood and Amanda's.  
Daphne never came home.  
She wasn't there when the police came, when they were expecting two corpses, but found only one and a half dead girl. Harley received medical attention immediately, and even in her partial conscious state she refused to let go of her stuffed animal.  
It took three days till she was fully awake again. When she woke it was only half an hour till she found herself being interrogated by Detective Bullock. He asked her what happened. She told him. She asked him what happened. He told her.  
Firstly, Daphne was safe and sound. When she was at the sleepover she had let slip about her home situation and the family took her in. When they received no notifications that Daphne was deemed missing they alerted the police, they knew that something must have happened to Amanda and Harley.  
Secondly, Francis had escaped, and left a long while before the GCPD even arrived. They also found that Amanda's body was missing the legs. Harley had no idea why.  
Finally, most of Harley's scars, her mutilated arms especially, would never heal. There were people though who would teach how to use makeup, to disguise them. And also, they wanted to know her greatest wish. If she could have anything what would it be?  
Now Harleen Quinzel wasn't a stupid girl. In fact she is incredibly smart. So she knew that she couldn't wish her mom back to life. She knew she couldn't wish to kill her farther.  
So she wished to live in her dollhouse. The one her parents worked together to build for her. Bullock told her that he would see what they could do, and that the GCPD were working very hard on apprehending her father.  
She spent the next few days in a cell, a nice one changed to suit her needs, but still a cell nonetheless. Daphne visited, and she cried and told her that she was sorry that she had done this, sorry that she wasn't there for her. One thing that should be noted, is that Harley never cried during this whole ordeal.  
Her condition had worsened.  
//  
Soon after that, Harley and Daphne were adopted, not by the nice family that tried to protect Daphne, but by the popular politician Peter Robertson and his wife Sally. As it turned out, Harley's wish came true. There was fundraisers and they had built her and her sister a house that was an exact replica of her dollhouse.  
The press went wild, the story of the poor little girl who lost both her mother and father, and for such scandalous reasons, and how she had emerged with a new rich family. It seemed like that would be the end of Harleen Quinzel, and that Gotham would never hear of her name again.  
How wrong they were.  
//  
Jerome, for the first time in remembrance, was speechless. She had so many more layers, so many things about her that he just wanted to explore. His little harlequin was a survivor.  
She would make this game interesting.  
Barbara grinned, "Did you get what you needed to know?"  
The red head chuckled and rose from his chair. "Indeed I did. Now if you would excuse me Miss Kean, I must return to my boudoir."  
"You mean your cell?" She called out after him.  
He ignored her, she was not going to ruin this good mood. He had worked it out, he worked out were they might have met. Amanda Quinzel had been a circus girl. She had named one of her children Lila. There was only one circus that came to Gotham. Only one with a girl named Lila.  
And that was Haley's Circus.  
The place he had once called home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: WHOOP THERE IT IS! (Yeah I'm probably gonna do this everytime something big is revealed.) BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH! We knew from earlier chapters that Amanda worked at the circus and knew Lila and wanted Harley to be with her son, WHICH IS OF COURSE JEROME! But in this we find she knew Lila well enough to name one of her children after her? So there are those connections...  
> BUT YOU OFFICIALLY FOUND OUT WHO HARLEY'S DAD IS! Congrats if you worked it out! So I'm gonna have a lot of fun playing around with Francis's character and as I've previously mentioned this Harley is based off of an OC who's father was this crazy dollmaker, and when I found out he's a villain and his name AND HARLEY'S MIDDLE NAME was Francis I thought, "well I am in love with Jerome Valeska and the Joker himself, so let's write this thing!" But I know you have questions. What was going on with Harley's mom and the faires? Where are Amanda's legs? Where did Francis go? (Well if you've watched Gotham, you know damn well where he has gone.) These shall all be answered in good time...  
> Now I've heard the rumors that Barbara is going to be Harley Quinn on Gotham. If that happens, I'll be pretty disappointed. Don't get me wrong, I think she'd do a good job and I love the chemistry between her and Jerome, but I love Barbara's character as is and she would have to make a lot of change to become Harley. Now I have a theory about how she could be a proto Harley with a proto Joker while we have the Joker also with a separate Harley Quinn, with Jerome still overall becoming the Joker. Now I know that sounds crazy but it will all make sense if I explain and if you want me to leave a comment asking me to and I shall.  
> Now I'm not sure but hopefully in the next chapter we'll say hello to our old friends, Dr Strange and Miss Peabody. And very soon we'll be seeing Penelope and Jonathan Crane too. I love how next season of Gotham seems to be coinciding with my story, Harley and Scarecrow coming in at the same time, at the same time I start writing them. Ahh the sweet coincidences of life...  
> Remember, if you want to see a rewrite of this story from Harley Quinn's POV make sure the number of kudos/favorites/follows/bookmarks reaches 100 and I'll do it. I'm also working on another AU right now, with Heath Ledger's Joker and Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn. Hopefully I can release that soon. Ok, now keep smiling and Gotham on, cuz you ain't seen nothing yet!


	11. So I Murder Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in drama class doesn't always stay in drama class...

~Too young to understand,  
Why she got thrown into someone else's hands,  
Why she woke up to strange men,  
They tore her to pieces  
And she couldn't comprehend,  
Why she was locked up in a basement  
Filled with men  
Mama sold me  
For candy,  
And I was ruined from the start...~

"Harleen Quinzel?"  
The word is spoken as barely a whisper but the it's recipient hears it clearly.  
Although, that doesn't give her a good reason to answer.  
"C'mon Harleen, we know you're there."  
The camera's angle doesn't allow them to see her face but she rolls her eyes anyway. She doesn't want to play their games, they are too boring and predictable.  
Where was Mistah J?  
Didn't he want to play?  
Wait a minute.  
Harley craned her head back, staring at the moldy plaster ceiling. She reviewed all the past interactions between them in her mind, analyzing the constant stream of data.  
Ah.  
He would be talking to Barbara by now.  
They'd be talking about her.  
Well he now knew who's child she was. So what now, what now? Maybe she should play with the doctors for a bit, their ignorance was amusing.  
She would let them believe they had control for a while.  
This would be hard but the end result would be even more fun.  
"Shh Harleen." Dr Strange said, even though she had not said a word.  
"Don't worry, this won't hurt at all."  
//  
Jerome was only two corridors away when he heard the screams.  
Her screams.  
Instantly his legs sprang into action, darting around the last corners towards the solitary door. Harley, Harley-girl, he thought. Puddin what have they done to you?  
She may have been the Dollmaker's Daughter once, she might have been Gotham's most dangerous socialite, Arkham's youngest patient, but none of those titles mattered anymore. She was his girl, his Harlequin, and she didn't belong to anyone else.  
Only he got to hurt her.  
What could he say? He was a jealous fella.  
He didn't expect Dr Strange to be barring the door when he got there. The Asian man smiled. "Now, now Mr Valeska, if I could have a moment of your time..."  
Jerome grabbed him by the collar. "Really? A moment of my time? Get out of my way I need to see her..." He felt something prodding his gut and looked down to see a pistol aimed right at it.  
Dr Strange bared his teeth.  
//  
No no no no please no!  
I didn't want this, mum, mum don't let them please.  
Fingers.  
Mum please!  
"We need the votes darling."  
But mommy...  
"The money."  
Please!  
"Don't worry Harleen."  
No...  
"This won't hurt a bit."  
//  
"Jerome, I will let you in but only if you listen. We need to make something clear. Harleen Quinzel cannot feel emotions. That part of her brain never developed right, the chemicals don't affect her. What you may not know is that she is a genius. And I use that in the literal sense of the word. She is one of the smartest people in the world and she is an analyst, which makes her even more dangerous."  
Jerome's brow furrowed. "What does she analyse?"  
"Everything!" Dr Strange yelled. "In a few moments she can pinpoint your weakness and exploit it! She can tell what you ate two days ago by the wrinkles in your shirt collar! She can predict every outcome of every scenario, and therefore she is always bored! We can't give her normal therapy because she'll either kill her therapist or convince them to kill themselves because she is simply bored!"  
The ginger's eyes grew wide with wonder. "She can really do that?"  
Dr Strange nodded solemnly, "Indeed she can. But even though she doesn't experience emotions mentally, she can respond to them physically. You know that she experienced trauma when she was younger, yes? In one of those events, a certain sentence was repeated. Now every time she hears it, she suffers fits. She thinks it's happening to her again, ad although she doesn't particularly care for it, her body doesn't want it to happen again, so it reacts scared and angry, lashing out at everything around her. The only way to stop her, is to give her what she needs."  
"Which is what?"  
Dr Strange smiled a toothy grin, before opening the door and pushing Jerome inside, locking the door behind him.  
Hugo Strange sighed in relief.  
"Pain." He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU SEE THE CONNECTIONS YET! DO YOU SEE WHAT i'M TRYING TO DO? If not look back on the 2nd last chapter. Anyways I'm sorry for the short chapter but deal with it, the next chapter is going to be much longer, have extreme feels, and also includes the moment you Jerome/Harley shippers have been waiting for! (Did you like how the reapperance of Dr Strange on Gotham coincided perfectly with my fanfiction. Ah coincidences...)   
> Also I've been busy working on writing, composing and recording songs which is going well, I've written a short Harley and Joker sad fic which has gotten decent attention (over 100 in a week on AO3 and 50 in the first hour on Fanfiction? Wow! Thank you if you read it!) and I'm still working on the Margot/Heath/Harley/Joker au for ya'll so ya welcome!   
> And I am preparing for a busy year of special events! I'm attending the Madman Anime Festival (I'll be cosplaying as Yuno Gasai) which includes Maid and Butler Cafe's, exclusive premieres of two major anime films, Cherami Leigh who is the voice of Lucy from Fairy Tail and Asuna from Sword Art Online, an SAO and Tokyo Ghoul exhibit, a concert with IA the vocaloid, a Cosplay parade and photoshoots for cosplayers! I did one last year at Supanova, with a touch of CGI and I snuck into the TARDIS behind the 10th Doctor's back!  
> Soon after that I'm going to a Marvel art exhibit with THE ACTUAL PROPS FROM THE MOVIES! Aka, Thor's hammer, Captain America's Shield, Iron Man's suit AND THE ACTUAL ASGUARDIAN THRONE ROOM IN THE MOVIES!   
> And I'll also be attending Comic-Con (first time going) and once again going to Supanova. I shall find out the guests soon and when I do I'll open up a competition for direct Q&A's with the stars! Also I have information from a trusted source that Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead and Amy Pond from Doctor Who are candidates for the spots!   
> As you can see, I've been a very busy girl and also I'MA BE VERIFIED ON YOUTUBE SOON! I'm working very hard on all my platforms churning out stuff for you guys and hopefully I can film some vlogs or live stream when I'm there at my events with guest appearances from my friends. SHOUT OUT TO THE FRIENDS FROM SCHOOL WHO ARE READING THIS YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! :)  
> So Gotham on and remember, you ain't seen nothing yet!


	12. In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley is acting a bit insane, even for Jerome. Of course, this just make him more intrigued. Jerome decides to have a little fun.  
> *This is the chapter ya'll have been waiting for! It's very violent. Also it's not smut or rape. Ya perverts.*

~There is beauty in violence  
And you are my beauty  
And you are my violent smile  
And you are my violent prayer   
And you're not my oxygen   
But I breathe your air~

 

The room seems darker than usual, the temperature reaching close to zero.  
Or maybe it was Harley's screams that gave him chills.  
So used to the lack of light his eyes adjusted almost right away, and he could see her.  
Her usual still composure had been lost and her limbs were slamming into any surface they could find, with no visible pattern. Her normally impeccable blonde locks were frazzled, yellow strands sticking out everywhere and her azure eyes were ringed with red. She was a mess.   
She didn't even notice Jerome's arrival, still screaming at her invisible attackers. "Please! I'll do anything, just don't... don't let them mummy!"  
Then her voice changed, deepening in it's tone. "We need to Harleen, we need to make you sparkle! Do you get that little murdering bitch? We need the money for you daddy's campaign. It won't hurt, it won't hurt a bit."   
Jerome shivered, that didn't even sound like Harley! It was probably meant to be her mother, but still, the change was unnerving.   
"Please," Harley cried. "Anything! Anything, but that!"  
Jerome moved closer till he was centimeters away from the erratic girl. "Harley?"  
She didn't respond, she couldn't hear him, not when her mind was so far away. He gently tapped her cheek. "Hey dollface, you alright?"  
Her eyes moved everywhere, landing on anything than him. "Please! Anything but that. Please, I would rather to hurt, I would rather have to say ouch a thousand times than feel that way again, please!"  
Jerome cursed. He had never had to deal with case like this before. Much less had to deal with a fondness for said person. He was genuinely concerned for her, and he was not sure what to do, which was, needless to say, an unpleasant sensation he was not used to feeling. He looked at her splayed arms and terror filled face. He harrumphed, and rolled his eyes, before stepping back.  
Well, you know. Carpe Diem and all that.  
He swung his leg with tremendous speed, kicking Harley in the stomach. She gagged, her mental state momentarily jolted.   
Jerome laughed.   
He did it again.  
And again.  
And again.  
"C'mon Harlequin. You said you would rather say ouch a thousand times. Well come on! Wake up!"  
He moved his foot, and stomped on her side, his attacks becoming more vicious. He hadn't had this much fun in ages!   
Harley was coughing blood, and her slim arms gripped her waist.  
Jerome squatted down next to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, lifting her face close to his. "Well, do you have anything to say to me Harley-girl?" He said, beaming as he did so.   
She whimpered.   
He sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "Audiences these days, so hard to please." He brought his fist back and punched her, still holding her hair, making her head swing back and forth.   
He continued this for a while, murmuring under his breath, giggles erupting from the back of his throat every now and then.   
About an hour later he asked her again. "Are you awake Harlequin?"  
Her eyelids fluttered softly, rather like butterfly wings. When they were fully open the first thing they saw was him.  
"Jerome?" His name was posed as a question in her hoarse whisper that sounded so, so sweet to his ears.  
Instantly he pulled her close, pulled her fragile frame to his chest and locked his arms around her. They had never been so close before, except in the dream, and he much preferred the reality. This reality. You had to be this close to appreciate just how tiny she was. Her collarbone jutted out, and her bruised stomach concaved into it's own crevice. It was amazing, amazing how she could be so little and do so much.   
"Can you say it again?" He asked.  
"Say what?"  
"My name."  
Harley smiled. "Wasn't once enough?"  
"Of course not. I have low self esteem and I need compliments to reassure me of my witty sense of humor and incredible good looks."  
The girl laughed, and pressed her face into his striped jumpsuit. "Jerome." She whispered.  
He gripped her shoulders and moved her in front of him. "What was that? I can't hear you when you mumble."  
He stared at her, challenging her, and she steadfastly stared right back. "Jerome."  
His hand traveled to the back of her head, fingers lightly tangling her hair. A slight smile graced Harley's lips. Curving rosebuds.   
Jerome inhaled sharply through his nose. Heaven help me...  
His grip tightened on her and he suddenly pushed forward, lips slamming into hers.  
Jerome was kissing her.  
He was kissing her because he wanted to, because he didn't care if she kissed him back or not,if she felt anything when he kissed her, because he was kissing her for him. He was kissing her for all the years he'd looked for her, all the portraits of her he'd spent hours on, all the time he endured with Barbara just to get a glimpse inside of Harley's beautiful violent mind.   
He kissed her because it felt good.   
His kiss wasn't sweet or soft, it was hard and violent and he was probably was hurting her but he didn't care. All he could think about was the sweet caramel taste of her lips, the fresh spring rain fragrance of her hair and the metallic tang of blood that coated her tongue.  
This was bliss.  
He didn't know how long he kissed her for. How long she remained still under the assault of his mouth. But when he pulled away, her eyes were unchanged, no flicker of surprise or pain or disgust to be found in them.  
Only curiosity.  
Two of her fingers found their way to her swollen lips, as if she was trying to make sure they were still there.   
Her eyes met his before sweeping down his mouth.  
Harley leaned forward. Just a bit at first, a colt trying out it's legs for the first time. Her face tilted, their noses mere millimeters from touching. Her lashes brushed cheeks as her eyes closed at the same time as his, and lips pressed her so gently into Jerome's.  
Her kiss was as delicate as Jerome's was rough. It was butterfly like and her mouth was tender. Her confidence grew and she pushed a bit harder. They were both explorers, their fingertips discovering new pathways of flesh and scar tissue, their lungs found a new oxygen that quickly became an addiction and they fought and struggled to swallow the air, the sweet breath that escaped the other's esophagus, the corruption that charred their cheeks.  
Jerome's senses were overwhelmed. Never in his whole 18 years had he felt like this. The best part was that he wasn't in control for once, he could abandon all precautions with her and throw it all to the wind. He didn't care-  
A sharp pain struck his lip.  
Harley pulled back grinning maliciously, proudly displaying the blood on her once pristine teeth.  
The little bitch had bit him.  
They were both bleeding now, all is fair in love and war. And he had spent the last hour beating the shit out of her.  
Jerome let out a laugh.  
She's perfect for me.  
She was his missing puzzle piece, his other half. She completed him.  
So they kissed for such a long time that it could only be measured by the number of times they crashed into each other, like waves crashing into the ocean. They drowned in this ocean, and every time they came up for air they dived back in, begging for more.   
There was no one else in the world, just them. There was no Doctor Strange and Miss Peabody watching intently through the cameras, there was no rapists and cannibals gallivanting in the asylum rec room a few halls down, there was no corpses of snake dancers, politicians, family and boyfriends buried beneath them.  
There was just joy, happiness, laughter, and the silent whispers of Jerome persuading the supposedly emotionless murderer to smile, smile for me, and she graciously responded, blushing like a schoolgirl.  
He pulled away and bopped her nose.  
"Puddin."  
Harley looked surprised for a moment, before lifting a slender finger and doing the same.  
"Puddin." She said, her voice light and filled with stardust.  
Jerome repeated his movements and responded in turn.  
"Puddin."  
"Puddin."  
"Puddin."  
They continued until they couldn't anymore, as they burst into a fit of giggles and soon were rolling on the ground in laughter.   
"Puddin!" Harley crowed.  
The sounds of their laughter drifted through Arkham's corridors, a lullaby that would disturb the asylum's inmates for many years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL HERE IS THE CHAPTER ALL YOU JEROME/HARLEY SHIPPERS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!   
> Wow, I'm sorry it took so long to post. I am not good at writing kiss scenes as you can obviously tell so it took me forever to write. Legit I got the first part done in a day but then when I got to the kissing I had to stop because I could see it clearly in my head but COULD NOT PUT IT IN WORDS! I did my best ok, don't judge my poor writing skills.  
> Anyways I went to the anime convention which was SO FRIGGIN COOL! I got to see Muse(Love Live) preform, I got interview Cherami Leigh (Sword Art Online, Fairy Tail, Sailor Moon) and got her autograph (and she signed by Asuna, I died), I made new friends, bought a crapton of fanart and a Mirai Nikki t shirt. It was so amazing and going with my awesome friend who you should go find on Instagram and Youtube, Exxaonline, made it even better.  
> The Marvel expo is coming up next, and ooh boy I can't wait see all them props and fangirl really hard.  
> Also I've also started uploading nightcore to my Youtube channel. And I uploaded a new Gotham video which I am actually quite proud of, the death compilation at the end with the words "die die die" repeating in the background was on point!   
> Moving back to the story, it's going to be interesting now, as Jerome and Harley are actually a thing now. Like how will the inmates and Doctor Strange and Miss Peabody react, and also... WHAT WILL HAPPEN WHEN JEROME GOES WITH THE MANIAX? That's what a lot of this story is going to cover, and his death and Harley's reaction to that. Meanwhile in the next installment of the Playmate series we will have them really becoming the Joker and Harley Quinn. Also, I'M REALLY SCARED AT HOW YA'LL WILL REACT TO THE ENDING BECAUSE IT'S NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I'M DOING IT! You will all die at the ending tho, like if you don't watch the video I can't think of a single way to predict it. Like, really.  
> So keep calm and Gotham on and remember, you ain't seen nothing yet!


	13. Watching Them Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little girl came to the circus three times.  
> The first time... she made a little boy smile  
> The second time... a little boy made her feel  
> The third time...

~Baby cried the day the circus came to town  
'cause she didn't want parades just passin' by her  
So she painted on a smile and took up with some clown  
While she danced without a net upon the wire~

 

The girl came to the circus three times.  
The first time Jerome saw her, he had just been thrown out of his mother's trailer. Technically it belonged to both of them, but she much preferred her stinky suitors to her son, and this was proven by the new bruises that he was sporting around his arms and ribs.  
He was only 5 years old.  
He pushed in between the throngs of people, finally darting around to the back of the big top when there was too many of them to get past, running towards the towers of hay bales that covered a loose flap of the tent. This was his place to run to when Lila treated him like her personal punchbag. No matter how many cities and town they traveled to, he could always count on the circus crew to stack the extra hay the exact same way every time.  
Jerome laid his head on the straw, ignoring the sounds of trumpets and the ringmaster's yell inside the tent. This was Haly's circus after all, and it's sounds had been his lullaby since he was born. The oohing and aahing of the crowds, the same sounds were elicited from the people's mouths every time they saw the same old boring routine the circus gave them every day. The routine had burned into Jerome's mind and he knew if he watched it again he'd just end up picking out all of it's flaws. Where was the theatrics? The humor? The flair? So he just didn't bother.  
For a long time instead of the show he would watch the people, trying to learn more about the world outside of the circus. Trying to learn what made them tick.  
In the end he just stopped, because it soon became all too easy to learn what made them tick. Money, labels, food, sex, drugs, it seemed that people didn't really vary from each other. And kids his age were just simple, they could never keep up with Jerome's wild ideas and fantasies. They didn't get his games. And if they were too dumb to understand his games, he didn't want to play with them anyway.  
But that didn't explain the hollow feeling in his chest.  
He didn't know what it was, it was like a piece of him was missing. It hadn't been found yet. He chalked it up to having an absentee parent and no real home. At least that's what he told himself as he snuggled down into the hay. The beating had taken a lot out of him and it was late. Darkness crept into the corners of his vision and he was so tired...  
Someone laughed.  
Jerome shot up. He thought that he may have imagined it. But then he heard it again. It was inside the tent.  
Now to just call it a laugh was an understatement. It was the most wondrous sound Jerome had ever heard. He had learned that a laugh can tell you a lot about what someone was feeling. Loud rambunctious laughter often rang out through the circus, the sound of drunken men about to get laid. There was the sharp, strained laughter of the wives of these men, when they laughed to mask their pain and the fact that their hands were sliding into their purses towards the packet of pills they kept with their wedding ring. There was the squealing laughter of their kids who didn't get the joke but laughed along with their parents anyway.  
And then there was this laugh. Sparkling like the stars above them. It sounded joyus, almost awed, the laugh of an audience unburdened by their own problems and completly swept up in the show before them.  
Never in all of his years at the circus had Jerome heard a laugh like that.  
Cautiously, he lifted the flap of the red and white tent and peeked inside.  
His eyes scanned the masses of every color imaginable and yet he couldn't find where the sound had come from...  
There it was again.  
As soon as he spotted her, Jerome found he could not look away.  
It was from a girl in red and blue fuzzy sweater and jeans, blonde hair tied in two pigtails on each side of her head. She was completly transfixed by the preformance. She giggled as the dancers twirled down from the celieing on the silks.  
"Can you show me Mama? Can you show me how to do that when we get home?"  
The golden haired women next to the girl chuckled, putting an arm around her and pulling her close. "Of course honey. Of course I will." And the litle girl laughed, she laughed that whimsical laugh again and Jerome was overwhelmed. She couldn't have been much younger than him and yet unlike the other children their age, she completly understood everything going on around her. She was smart. She was beautiful.  
The girl chose that moment to look his way.  
Their eyes met and time stopped.  
She had the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and they twinkled with knowlege and something else. The same thing he saw in his own eyes every time he looked in the mirror. A darkness.  
She smiled at him.  
Jerome felt his skin prickle with heat, spreading from the roots of his ginger hair. He ducked under the flap again and ran.  
He ran hard and fast right into the woods, not caring for a moment about the shadows cast by gnarled trees. He stopped when he reached the old, forgotten playground he had found in the woods last year when they came to Gotham. He collapsed on the roundabout, panting as he looked at the sky filled with stars above him. He thought about what had happened.  
He couldn't believe he'd run off like that, ran away like he was scared. But when he looked into her eyes, when he saw the same darkness that was in his eyes he couldn't help but run. Because that meant there was someone out there like him. That he wasn't alone anymore. He hated to admit it but...  
That scared him.  
He had always been alone until now, and he wasn't sure how to handle having someone else that understood him. He didn't know what to expect.  
Another thing he noticed was that when they locked eyes, when he searched her face, he couldn't find anything. He couldn't find any of the base desires that motivated her to live. He couldn't find the emotions that made her tick.  
He couldn't figure her out, and she was the first person he'd met that could do that.  
She was certainly interesting.  
She had such a beautiful smile...  
He felt the sleepiness slowly coming back, and he was too tired to find his way back to the circus. Oh well. His mother was too busy boning someone to realise that he hadn't come back to the trailer that night. No, that wasn't what bothered him.  
As the stars blurred in his vision, he picked the brightest and made a wish.  
"I wish to see her again."

//

The second time the girl came to the circus, There was a boy waiting for her.  
She didn't know this of course. She had come back to the circus with her mother, as she had continued to nag her mother about it the whole week. But now they were here she couldn't find her mother anywhere. She had been swept away with the crowd and she didn't know where to go or what to do.  
She didn't feel particulay scared or bothered about this situation. But she did not like the uneasiness of not knowing what to do. She wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, as her father said she might scare them if she went up to someone she had never met before and call them by there name. She couldn't help it if people threw those important words around, not caring who was listening. She couldn't help it if she had a habit of remebering these things and accidently using them in conversation.  
She was lost in thought, until she heard footsteps approaching behind her.  
"Are you lost?" Inquired a cheerful voice.  
She turned around to see a young boy with ginger hair, carrying a bunch of red and blue balloons with smilely faces drawn all over them. He was wearing jeans that looked a bit worse for wear, and a shirt feautring the logo of some band called The Misfits, which was at least two sizes too big for him. But the smile that streched across his freckled face suggested that he didn't care very much about it, and that he was apprantly delighted to see her.  
She wondered for a moment if she should put on her best "scared little girl" voice, or maybe even lie to him, but then decided against it. She was tired of pretending. She wanted someone to talk to.  
"I believe I am." She proclaimed rather matter-of-factly. "I appear to have lost my mother."  
The boy's grin grew wider. "That was rather irresbonsible of you wasn't it?"  
She frowned and shook her head. "I wouldn't say so. It was the crowd that took her away."  
The boy made a disapproving noise. "Ah, those crowds. They are a bother aren't they?"  
"Yes indeed." She said.  
"That's why I never go along with them."  
"I feel the same way."  
The boy's head tilted sharply to the side. "Why, isn't that interesting."  
It was a statement, not a question and they both knew it.  
But then his head was upright again and he was beaming. "Well milady!" He gave an extravgent bow, his hand gave a flourish filled wave before landing before her. "I am the prince of the circus, and it is my royal duty to show lovely princessess from visiting lands around my kingdom."  
He looked up at her, still smiling that wicked grin.  
"Unless of course, you're afraid."  
She thought she saw something in his blue eyes, a touch of something dangerous, but in a flash they returned to normal. She paused and considered her options. Wait for her mother or go on an adventure with a boy she had never met before? The answer was obvious.  
"Of course I'll come," She said, baring her teeth in a smile that was meant to mimic his, but she wasn't sure if she did it right. She was not used to expressing emotions, due to her condition, but sometimes she felt like she felt everything, before it was gone again.  
"That would be..." She thought about the word that the little boy had used before. "Lovely." She murmed, rolling the letters around her tongue. The smile that came to her face was genuine this time.  
She placed her hand in his.  
//  
He took off almost immediately, dragging her from tent to tent, pointing out the main attractions of the side show and explaining which ones were real and which were hoaxes. As they walked past the fortune telling tent her eyes locked with the milky white ones of the old man seated out the front. Well at least they seemed to, she could tell instantly that he was blind. And yet she could feel his eyes following her as the boy led her down an alley between the attractions.  
The boy suddenly dug his nails into her hand. "What do you think you were looking at blondie?" He growled, all the cheer dissipating from his voice.  
The girl frowned and yanked her hand from his grasp. "Don't call me blondie. I dislike the term."  
The boy scoffed. "Dislike the term?" He said, voice high pitched and mocking. "You're only what, five? Do you think you're a grownup, talking like that?"  
Her blue eyes widened. "No I don't think I'm a grownup. I don't like grownups very much. They all cheat and lie to get their own way, and they think that they can treat kids however they want just because they have lived more years and are a bit closer to death that we are. I don't like them at all."  
The ginger haired boy's face softened. "Yeah, me neither."  
Then his face brightened again. "Well I have to call you something. Otherwise we can't be friends."  
The girl's forehead wrinkled with confusion. "Friends? I don't think I've had one outside of my family before."  
The boy chuckled. "Well that's alright, because I've never had a friend ever! So that means neither of us know the rules of friendship, which is awesome because then we can make our own rules. It can be like a game!"  
He cocked his head in thought, his expression serious all of a sudden, but in an exaggerated kind of way. "Now now, what to call you? We need something that describes your awesomeness in ways never heard of before. How about..." He clapped his hands together sharply.  
"Pudding! How about I call you Pudding? I don't think I'ver ever heard someone called Pudding before!"  
The girl considered it. "Puddin...?" She queried, her accent making it sound a little different from the way the circus boy said it.  
He nodded enthusiastically.  
"Well then what do I call you?" She asked. "I need a name for you too."  
He hesiated. He didn't want her to call him by the name his mother had given him, a name tainted by Lila's mouth. He wanted something that would make her view him as the dazzling star he was certain he was going to be.  
"J." He told her. "You can call me J."  
The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Alright then Mistah J." She let out a breathy giggle, that made the boy go weak in the knees. "Hey if you call me Puddin, does that mean you think I'm sweet?"  
The boy blushed as red as his hair. "N-no way. I've never even eaten pudding before. If I wanted to call you sweet I would have called you... cotton candy!" He perked up. "C'mon let's have some now!" He puffed out his chest. "I can get it for free."  
She giggled and let him wrap his hand around her's again and they both ignored the bleeding half moon shapes indented near her knuckles. They went to the stall where indeed they got the soft cones of pink fluff for free. The little girl could not get enough of the sweet sugary taste, and didn't notice until it was too late when the boy grabbed a piece and stuck it on her nose. "Mistah J!" She said and laughed, before whacking the back of his head with her cone, which of course did not cause him pain but it did get considerable amounts of the cotton stuck in his copper hair. He chortled before chasing her with his candy, and they ran together through the circus, the balloons he had in his hand were released and floated away into the night.  
He taught her how to twirl plates on a stick, showed her how to make a flower appear from thin air and brought her into the back area were they kept the elephants and tigers where she petted them and inspected them with almost a greedy interest, like she wanted to see what they looked like on the inside.  
The boy noticed this, and asked her if she wanted to play a game. She did and so he brought her towards the outskirts of the circus, up on a hill where the stars were clear against the skyline of Gotham, which was so rare in the smog filled city. He told her to wait for a moment before running off into the circus. She lay back and looked at the stars, and she thought about how everyone was just little specks against the Earth, while the stars beamed so bright. You could get rid of half the people on the planet and that would still not affect the way the stars beamed down upon those still there to look at them.  
"How lovely." She whispered into the night.  
Jerome found her there a few minutes later, sleeping softly in the grass. She must have been worn out, it was rather late. He sat down quietly beside her, not wanting to disturb her rest. He observed the way her blonde hair fanned out behind her, having fallen out from her pigtails. He looked at the way her little red pinafore clinged to her frame and her black stockings underneath her skirt which at the start of the night, were impeccable, but now had at least four holes in them.  
He fantasized for a moment, that her mom had just left her here, abandoned her to the circus. He thought about her staying here forever, growing old with him until it was time for him to leave this place and enter the world were his opportunities of fame awaited him. He would take her with him, because by then they would be the bestest of friends, and he would trust no one else.  
Or...  
He looked at the Swiss Army knife in his hand.  
He could kill her.  
It would be easy, right now. While she was sleeping. He could see the way chest rose and fell, lightly up and down. He could slice her throat...  
"I'm 4."  
He looked down at her, with her blue eyes wide open and fixed on him, apprantly not worried about the knife in his hand.  
"You asked me if I was 6 before. I'm not. I'm 4 years old."  
He stared at her. "That makes me a full year older than you then. But you seem much older than 4, Pudding."  
"You seem much older than 5. What's in the bag?"  
The boy slung the backpack off his shoulder. He had almost forgotten it was there. "Oh yeah! I have a suprise for you!" He unzipped the bag and displayed the lack of contents inside, with all the finesse of a born showman. He then zipped it up, shook it around a bit before opening it up again and pulling a white rabbit out by the ears.  
"Ta-da!"  
The girl clapped delightedly. "Wow! Is that the game?"  
The boy shook his head. "Nup! It's way more exciting! I wouldn't let my favorite girl be entertained by anything but the funniest things!"  
He leaned in towards her.  
"Have you ever seen a rabbit smile?" He whispered, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially.  
She shook her head.  
He beamed with joy, enthusiastically grabbing the creature. It's pink eyes darted around and it's whiskers twitched in fear as if it could sense it's fate. The boy roughly placed his hands around it's throat, and squeezed with all the might in his five year old body. It's eyes grew wider and wider and the poor thing struggled within in his grasp, but in a moment ceased to move. The boy chuckled at the limp body of the rabbit and picked up his knife.  
"Ya see Pudding? All it takes is a little push. Now, you proceed like so-" He brought the knife to the edge of the rabbit's mouth, before cleanly slicing through it's tender flesh, stopping halfway up it's left cheek. When he had cut through the other side, leaving a gaping hole to match the other, he poked his fingers through the gaps and stretched the skin out as far as he could without it breaking.  
"Ta-da! Look Pudding, it's smiling, it's smiling!" He broke into a series of guffaws, dropping the rabbit in his lap and rolling around on the grass. As he did so he carefully listened for a frightned gasp or her footsteps rushing away. This was the part where she was meant to be scared.  
Instead the girl stared at him, her face an undisturbed blank slate. "Why did you strangle him before you made him smile? I'm sure the result would have been the same either way." She paused, considering her own words. "But perhaps it might have died from bloodloss anyway. Even so, the sounds it would have made might have made the game more entertaining."  
The corner of her mouth crept up, as though a puppeteer was pulling her strings."Not that it wasn't entertaining. It was a wonderful trick. May I please have a try?"  
The boy was surprised, but handed her the knife all the same. He was even more so startled when she picked up the rabbit corpse and raised the the tip of the knife to the nape of it's neck, pressing gently down before neatly creating an incision that ran almost all the way down to it's tail.  
It was bleeding out everywhere but she was seemingly unbothered by this instead putting down the knife and calmly exploring the inside of the rabbit with her hands. After a few minutes of rummaging it seemed she found what she was looking for, as she removed a small piece of crimson meat from it's chest, that gave little twitches as she severed the sinews and aortas that were attached to it and cupped it in her little hands, examining it with a look of curiosity in her azure eyes.  
It was the rabbit's heart.  
After a moment she turned to him and smiled, giggling lightly before smoothly taking his hand and dropping the rabbit heart in it.  
"This is yours now. I give you a heart, as a thank you for tonight." She blushed, almost like she was embarrassed. "I've never had a real friend before. I couldn't have had, because tonight I have felt more than I have in 4 years. And Mama and Papa say that's a really big deal." She looked at the ground, expression sullen, hands tightening around the rabbit organs. "They say that it's important to feel. It's what makes us different from animals."  
The boy blinked at her, this girl who didn't run from his games, this girl who liked dissecting animals as much as he did, this girl with darkness in her eye. She had called him her friend. He thought back to the others, when they had said the same thing. He had just been empty then. Indifferent.  
But this time, he thought as he clutched the heart in his palm, there was a happiness when she said that.  
He was happy to make her happy and he didn't know why.  
I like her sm-  
He changed the subject before anymore bothersome thoughts popped into his brain.  
"Animals can talk in books. If they can talk and feel in books, why can't they do the same in real life?"  
Her eyes rolled over to meet his. "Because this isn't a fairytale Mistah J."  
Her quiet voice saying words that should have been sarcastic but came out sad, struck a chord in the boy.  
"But is this not Wonderland and are you not Alice?" He jokingly said.  
She shook her head. "This world maybe Wonderland, but I am not Alice."  
She gestured to the dead animal in her lap. "This is the White Rabbit, and I am the Red Queen."  
He grinned excitedly. "Does that mean I'm the Mad Hatter?"  
The girl paused, turning to look at him as if seriously considering the question.  
"No. You would have to be mad, and you are not mad Mistah J. You are the Cheshire Cat of course."  
He burst into laughter.  
"I'll take that as a compliment." He tilted his head. "But you are so sweet and polite Pudding. Why would you make yourself the villain of the story?"  
She cast a glance towards the rabbit corpse. "We're all red on the inside."  
She smiled then and leaned towards Jerome, mussing his ginger hair with her bloodied hands. "Some people are red on the outside too. You are. I am."  
She giggled. "You just can't see it yet."  
The girl darted foreward, kissed his freckled cheek, and pulled back, blushing a deep red.  
The boy was thrilled. A kiss? Who would have thought? This girl was fascenating! She was way more fun than the others.  
She wouldn't meet his eyes now, as she searched through the grass for her hair ties. "I-I'm sorry," She stuttered as she picked up the red one. "If th-that was impolite." She found the blue one and grabbed one side of her golden hair, pulling it into a pigtail. "I just wanted to make sure-" She murmered as she did the same to her left side. "That you were my friend, and that you didn't need anyone else in the world now."  
She looked up at him, doe eyes almost scared. " I'm the only one you need right? You won't leave me for another friend?"  
The boy laughed at the idea. "Another friend? My Ma is too drunk to know who I am half the time, and my father died at sea. The other kids don't like me. Having someone as friend would mean that they love me, and Pudding, no one loves me. Everyone leaves, but no one comes back." Shocked at his own words, he bit his tongue and looked away. Damn, those were meant to be private thoughts!  
He felt a hand touch his.  
He looked up to see the girl and her wonderful smile, right by his side. "I will always come back for you Mistah J. We're friends now remember?" He smirked and lifted her hand smoothly to his lips, and pressed them against her skin. "Indeed, milady."  
The girl grinned before looking over her shoulder to the circus down below. She spotted a glimpse of what looked like her mother near one of the trailers. Her neck swung back towards the boy. "I have to go find my Mama. But you guys will still be here next week right? I'll come back then for you. We can more games then can't we?"  
He nodded. "Of course Pudding. I'll wait for you." The girls pearly whites made themselves known again. "Buh bye Mistah J!"  
And so the boy watched her run, bloody hands and all, into the chaos of the circus.  
The third time the girl came to the circus...  
//  
Jerome Valeska shot up from his position, where he had been laying next to Harley on the floor of her cell. He turned to her, eyes wide and face pale.  
"I know you, don't I Pudding?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!!! I'M BACK BITCHES!!!  
> Ok yeah I'm sorry, this chapter was long, I kept running out of insperation, life has been hectic af blah blah blah. But I've worked so hard here on all the Easter Eggs. This whole chapter is basically Easter Eggs, Here's a list, some were obvious, others subltely woven in. I am proud if you got them all.
> 
> Harley's sweater is Blue and Red, a reference to her hair in Suicide Squad
> 
> The dancers on the silks are an inspiration from Suicide Squad, this is something we will see again soon later in the story
> 
> The roundabout in the woods, is from a Criminal Minds episode starring a certain Cameron Monaghan...
> 
> The Red and Blue balloons with smiley faces that Jerome is holding, these are again a Suicide Squad Easter Egg and also the smiley faces are just a dead giveaway to his alias
> 
> The T shirt that Jerome is wearing with the Misfits Logo, the logo is a ghastly smiling face and the band has lyrics the Joker would defintely approve of
> 
> The flower magic trick that Jerome shows Harley is the same one he preforms at the Gala with the Maniax
> 
> The hill that Jerome and Harley are sitting on is the same one that Jerome will kill his mother on several years later
> 
> Harley's obsession with the word and concept of Lovely is a reference to Cassie Ainsworth, a character from a show called Skins who is often compared to Harley Quinn
> 
> The Red pinafore and Black tights that Harley is wearing is a reference to the orginal Harley Quinn's iconic colors
> 
> Jerome's mutilation of the Rabbit, is an Easter Egg for the Joker's Glasgow smile
> 
> The Rabbit's heart is an Easter Egg for later in the story...
> 
> The whole conversation about Alice In Wonderland, if you wonder why I did not make Jerome the Mad Hatter and Harley Alice, hello that's been done so many times before, and we already have Jervis Tetch as the Mad Hatter. And the Joker has always reminded me of the Cheshire Cat with his whole smiling thing. Also I've never seen Harley portrayed as the Red Queen before, and now "we are all red on the inside" is one of my favorite quotes that I've ever written. 
> 
> The "I'm the only one you need" line is sublte reference to Yuno Gasai in Mirai Nikki, also is an Easter Egg for later on in the story...
> 
> The fact that Amanda Quinzel was near the trailers and not near the tents, is yet another Easter Egg for later in the story...  
> So like I said, I'm so glad if you got them, look out for more later on and also re read some of the older chapters for more in case you missed some. If you guys have any theories for what the foreshadowing means (I do so much foreshadowing) then pop them in to comments below. I always love reading reviews and opinions.  
> I must admit that everytime I write these I try to make it as visual as it can get as shown by all the Easter Eggs with the colors. It's because I keep imagning this as a tv show or movie, which would be the best thing ever if it did.  
> ALSO ONE OF MY READERS MADE A VIDEO WHERE SHE HAD PHOTOSHOPPED SASHA PIETERSE AS HARLEY QUINN ON YOUTUBE!!! Oh my god I am legit so proud and amazed. Also did you guys know that Sasha cosplayed as Harley Quinn last year on Halloween? Interesting...  
> Anyways I've been getting SO MANY REQUESTS to edit another Love You Just A Little Too Much video, which I will do but I'm working on a different video at the moment so please bear with me a little longer.  
> ALSO IF YOU ARE A TRUE FAN OF LOVE YOU JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH FOLLOW MY LIVE.ME ACCOUNT! Please download the app if you don't have it BECAUSE I am constantly talking about this story, I've been reading out sneak peeks of this chapter for ages now and I will do the same for upcoming chapters, and I give sneak peeks of the actual word documents on my computer so you can see behind the scenes (and all the spelling mistakes lol)  
>   
> And guys if you want to draw fanart please send some! It would be literally the sweetest thing!
> 
> I'm hoping to get the new video I'm working on done soon but I dunno, it's Rick and Morty video and the feels will kill you. I'm not joking. I've seen a lot of Sad Rick and Morty videos but I'm going to make it EVEN SADDER. But not as sad as this will be. Like this will have a good ending but that doesn't mean it won't be sad, romantic and possibly disturbing :)  
> So Gotham on, and remember folks you ain't seen nothing yet!


	14. One By One

~Now I got this problem following me!  
You better be careful, better be careful, better be careful!  
Whose heart you’ll break,  
You’re never knowing what she’ll do or say  
Will send ’em over the edge so  
Be careful...~

 

Miss Peabody’s hands dropped her mug, coffee splashing all over the floor.

This could not be good.

Meanwhile Dr Strange, too enraptured by the sight on the screen to notice the espresso now soaking into his shoes, let out a startled little laugh.

“Oh my,” he murmured. He turned to Miss Peabody. “This is better than the Kardashians!”

Miss Peabody took a quick step back, shocked by the horrific idea his statement issued.

That he was perfectly fine with continuing with his experiment.

Not that the fact that he liked bad reality tv shows.

“Strange,” She said, trying her best to keep her tone even, but it still wavered with anger. “They know each other. From before. Now they are romantically involved. These are two clinically insane criminals. They are tigers in a cage, and you are poking them with a stick like they are kittens. Don’t you see what’s wrong here?”

He sighed. “The fact that you don’t see this as a great revelation for science, is making me think you’re not very suited for Indian Hill.” He peered over his glasses slyly. “And you know what the Court does to those not suited their plans, do you not?” Dr Strange watched as Ethel’s face paled. “Exactly! Now we’re past that little probl-“ Miss Peabody grabbed his arm.

“The Court will hurt you Hugo, if they find out about what you are doing with Valeska and Quinzel. I really am trying to help you. You must see that.” She whispered.

Strange let out a sharp bark of laughter, brushing her hand off his shoulder. “Why would they hurt me? After I’m done, they’ll be thrilled! Harleen is a metahuman remember? That’s the whole point of Indian Hill, and we didn’t even have to make her ourselves! Her abilities are nothing like I’ve ever seen before, they will be a great asset to the Court.”

Miss Peabody shook her head in dismay. “Those abilities only bend to her will! Even if you threatened her life she would not be able to use them how you wish. She doesn’t feel, she doesn’t care!”

Hugo Strange bared his teeth. “That, my dear Ethel, that is where you are wrong!” He gestured to the couple on the monitors, the digital light washing his skin with a sickly glow. “Do you see her? Do you see them? He makes her feel! He’s the only one who’s been able to that! Before, getting Harleen to do our bidding would have been impossible! But now that she feels, she is just as weak as all the others. Now we have leverage!”

Miss Peabody’s jaw dropped. “Strange, what are you planning on doing?”

He stood, turning his back to the screen and throwing his arms to the air. “Valeska! Mister Valeska is the key!”

Dr Strange laughed, “Why my dear dear Ethel, I’m going to kidnap Jerome Valeska!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE REACHED 1000 READS ON AO3!! And in celebration of this fabulous achievement, I'VE CREATED A TUMBLR FOR THIS FANFICTION!! Please send me any questions you might have, prompts for short stories with these characters, AND PLZ FANART CUZ THAT WOULD BE BEAUTIFUL! My username is the-real-theycallmecat, and I've already posted a Harley Quinn themed collage, and a missing poster I edited for Harley Quinn with Sasha Pieterse. If you are one of the big fans of this story, please go check it out, as it will legit be perfect for you :)  
> Also go follow my Live.me, my username is Talitha Roberts, and I constantly talk about Love You Just A Little Too Much and when I'm writing new chapters I read out snippets, so for an insiders look at the story check that out too.
> 
> On to my rant about this chapter.
> 
> Well we have just a short chapter today, but I feel as if you guys deserve a new one because you waited so long and patiently for the last one. I legit wrote this at school. As I write this I’m in class. So, yeah. Proof of my dedication :)
> 
> This may seem like a filler chapter, but come on guys, when do I ever do just a filler chapter? Every chapter is intentionally done, and contains something central to the plot, and there is always foreshadowing.
> 
> The main Easter Egg is this chapter, actually, in all the Dr Strange and Miss Peabody chapters, is the characters themselves. I’ve tried to make them as close to the original ones on Gotham, but their relationship is meant to resemble the abusive side to the Joker and Harley Quinn’s relationship, like in Mad Love. Hugo Strange is man with big ambitions and he is constantly scheming. Miss Peabody cares for him, and is desperate for a bit of his recognition. She cares for him so much in fact, that if you think about it in the show, she dies for him. Now in the show they don’t really insinuate that they have a relationship, or that Miss Peabody hold affection for him. To me it seems rather obvious, because otherwise she wouldn’t have been so loyal to him throughout everything, doing things for him that could be considered monstrous. Just like Harley Quinn.
> 
> So in this story, even though there is abuse between Harley and Jerome, because their personalities are a bit different from the comics it will be more focusing on the romantic side. But even their romantic side is twisted and creepy, so don't worry.  
> Ok so back to the situation at hand... WHAT THE HELL IS DOCTER STRANGE THINKING?! This is JEROME VALESKA for chrissakes! My friggin gorgeous cunning beautiful redhead, used as bait? I don't bloody think so! So things are gonna get interesting.  
> Also I know I have left you guys on a cliff hanger on the last chapter, but don't freak on me, the next chapter is the answers to that AND HOLY SHIT I HAVE A LITTLE SOMETHING YOU ARE NOT EXPECTING FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER. Legit, you haven't predicted it because this is the first time I've mentioned it, and I haven't foreshadowed it AT ALL except for rn. In fact when you read it at first you'll THINK you know what I'm talking about, but then when you ACTUALLY read it you are going to have sezuire wherever you're reading this! I honestly can't wait!  
> *Ok so I actually posted this chapter forever ago on Fanfiction.net and I'm so sorry I forgot to update on here! 
> 
> The newest chapter so far is actually one of the best I've done so far in my opinion at least, it almost has a fantastical vibe to it. It's very descriptive and flowing so far (lot's of feels thrown in for good measure) but it's so detailed and SO MUCH happens that it's probably going to be the longest chapter I've ever done. I'm halfway through it, and I've been placing my heart and soul into every word, but I don't even know if I can fit in that big twist now, but it will definitely come in a later chapter, if not in this one.  
> ALSO GOTHAM IS BACK AND I'M LOVING IT AND HOLY HELL THEY JUST MADE BARBARA A METAHUMAN AND THAT SOUNDS REALLY BLOODY FAMILIAR!  
> We do not know what it is yet, but Ras a Ghul (I can't spell his name, soz) gave her a power AND IT BETTER NOT BE THE SAME AS MY HARLEY'S! Also Lee is apparently back, but that ending was giving me twin vibes, I'm probably wrong but if I'm right, THEN THE PARALLELS ARE GROWING BETWEEN US (which don't get me wrong, would be awesome lol). They made Butch Solomon Grundy, and I love him even more now, and I love the way they gave him his name, it sounds like something I would write so that made me very happy. Jonathan came back... and left really quickly which disappoints me, but that just gives me more opportunity to play around with his character and backstory so yay!  
> Meanwhile, the importance of the Edelweiss flower and song is revealed in this next chapter, a whole ton of build up finally explodes in this chapter too, and Harley's power makes it's first appearance!  
> *
> 
> Now Gotham on, and remember folks, you ain't seen nothing yet!

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: Well helloooo everyone! I am new here and if you have managed to slog through my awful writing I thank you. I know the ending is soughta kinda maybe a cliff hanger but you know. The first act will consist of flashbacks and the second act shall consist on the here and now. And did anyone get the Selina Kyle reference? I bet she won't be happy that Gotham's resident psychopath is stealing her sleeping spots. But she has a connection to Harley... You'll find out soon enough. Please leave kudo's and comments if you want me to continue the story and also, if I get 100 kudos I will write this story from Harley Quinn's point of view. Thank you for reading!


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